


brotherly ever after

by cheshirebottom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Step-Brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirebottom/pseuds/cheshirebottom
Summary: After a while, Harry speaks with his words croaked out. "Why can't I kiss you whenever I want to? It's. . . it's not fair."Louis opens his eyes, looks at Harry and frowns. "Because, princess, we're-""Don't," Harry immediately cuts him off, too hurt and vulnerable and fragile now at this point to even handle that cruel, stupid word: brothers. Their true relation. That one thing that's keeping them like this-- this guarded and forbidden. Hiding and miserable.♡or the one where harry and louis grew up together as brothers and thus it's not at all appropriate for them to be more than just that. they became more than just that, however.





	1. 💗 introduction: the past 💗

**Author's Note:**

> © 2014 by Lou Grant
> 
> ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
> 
> **THIS IS LOU GRANT'S PROPERTY. PLEASE DO NOT STEAL.  
>  ***  
> This contains stepbrothers falling in actual love. If that's not your cup of tea, you're free to close that tab and move along.**

**[** **我有更好的运气在我的手中。** **]**

**_Introduction: The past_ **

**_#_ **

Anne Cox and Johannah Darling are the mothers of Harry and Louis. Two ladies whose lives were quite easy at first, but soon became rather difficult came their teenage life and beyond.

They had both been the best of friends ever since, starting on their diaper days, and until forevermore, that one they had sworn.

They did stuff together, shopped together, talked about their love lives, their first crush, first kiss, first love, just all their firsts and so on. They had basically grown up within the presence of one another as it was, had been with each other's side during pubescent, had been there to help each other pass their A-levels, had seen each other cry when they got their hearts broken and even then, when one of them had finally had their first ever pregnancy, with that one being Anne herself.

Anne's first daughter with his spouse-to-be on that moment, Des Styles: Gemma, whom they'd decided to be named after Des' surname after Anne's, Styles.

And Johannah was there when Anne had delivered her first child, was there when Anne had become teary-eyed having first held her newborn baby girl, was even there as well when they'd baptized her, bestowing her a full name that was Gemma Anne Styles.

Johannah was always there-- _had always been there_ \--no matter what.

So Anne got Gemma then, no big deal, she was coping up quite well. In fact, she and Johannah were, because the thing was, despite Anne's security and possession of Des, she and Johannah still continued to hang out, consistently so for that matter, having lunch outdoors and chatting about life. Good.

One day however, Johannah made a mistake. And all the sudden, their lifestyles had been ruined. It was Anne whom she'd first told her story to, because of course,  _who else was there?_

Johannah told her that she was pregnant. Anne could only lend a shoulder for her to lean on, wasn't able to do anything else. Now, why did Anne have the need to do that? Why did Johannah need the shoulder that she could lean against with? Simply because Johannah was pregnant, that was why, and it just so happened that the man who'd had her pregnant was one of those who wasn't ready at the time, had insisted he was too young for such--a lifetime commitment--and even more so had simultaneously refused to take responsibility of the child.

Anne sympathized for her, crying along with her, trying to soothe one another. Johannah at the time, had only wanted nothing but to die. Downtrodden, aggravated, emotional under hormonal causes, had she'd all been.

Months passed, Johannah decided she wanted abortion. Anne didn't let her. They cried all night after hours, were both soaked under the pouring sky with Johannah clinging tightly onto her best friend, saying she was sorry for attempting to kill her child.

More months had passed, Johannah delivered a very wonderful miracle child called Louis, causing death to take its toll on her since Anne had picked the boy instead of the mother, when Johannah had insisted that of course, the doctor being the interrogator and asking them to choose which one should live:  _the mother or the child?_

Anne, Des, a one year-old Gemma and a newborn baby Louis surrendered Johannah's spirit to the land of Lord God three days after she'd died of giving birth to their precious Louis, the lot of them giving her a proper and grand burial on the South Cemetery, the rest of their friends and families even extended relatives all invited and welcomed, bidding their last and final goodbyes to their sister, aunt, cousin, and friend, Johannah Darling.

And it was no surprise, Anne was the saddest. Everybody knew that.

She'd just lost her best friend. Her childhood friend, her sister from another mother, her partner in crime, her buddy for life, her best, best pal.

"You'll be missed dearly, our beloved Jay," she'd murmured before her coffin was buried under the ground, "Most especially me. I'll miss you. Every day, each day and for the rest of my life."

It was Anne's turn to be sad, having lost a significant someone that was Johannah, but then when she'd looked at Louis in her arms, she immediately thought that, maybe not so--not so much when there was still a big part of Johannah that was Louis Tomlinson. Tomlinson; the only thing that was taken from the father himself, the only thing that now Anne would want to erase more than anything.

Months passed, Anne legally adopted Louis to become her son. She'd signed some papers to avail it--and her wish was granted.

Now Anne had Gemma and Louis. Des didn't mind.

As years passed and while Anne was still with Des, Gemma being three and Louis just turned two, eventually so after another month, they'd made love again and another baby was made. They were so happy about it. Anne was so happy she could barely sleep. Everything was going so well.

When Anne got to deliver her youngest, Harry, young Louis was there to witness it, was already capable of talking, and had seen Harry when he'd first opened his stark emerald eyes for the entire world and universe to see, the lot of them meeting with a pair of blue ones firsthand however that were Louis' (though he really yet couldn't see), having Louis said ever so solemnly to Anne, " _I'll promise to take good care of you and Harry, mummy. Pinky promise_."

Anne's eyes watered with so much sadness as well as joy on that very precious moment--sad because Des that time had already left her too, and joy, because she knew then that she was so lucky to have someone like Louis, like Gemma, like baby Harry--and that she'd known she'll never need anything else any more other than her children, other than the family that she now had.

From that moment, same with Louis swearing to his heart and soul of taking care of Harry and her, Anne had also sworn to herself. And it was of her, sticking to her kids from then on, and that life should go on as she decided to put them first over everything else that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❄️
> 
> QUESTION FOR THIS CHAPTER: What do you think of this summarized introduction? Also, who are your favorite artists/bands? :~)


	2. 💗 harry and louis: at 13 and 15 💗

**[** **爱我，爱我，说你爱我。** **]** ♥

**Harry [13]:** _The art of being confident in any way_  
**Louis [15]:** _Hard as a stone_

**_#_ **

Rummaging through his closet that is, at the moment, full of nothing but blacks and maroons colored clothing, Louis looks for his shirt that has the album cover of Pink Floyd at the front of it--his all time favorite. Gemma's gift to him Christmases ago.

Once spotted, he smoothly wears it over his head, whipping around to play something on his iPod, one of which that  _Spectrum-X_ \--that Gothic sort of band that screams underground genre--has for him to offer.

_Dead Burger King_. That is the name of the song. Pretty scary for a title? Maybe. But nothing's scary to Louis. Not if he's a rebellious kid at the moment, no.

As soon as the song starts playing, making the entire room that he and his younger brother, Harry, have been sharing for all these years instantly filled up with all but screaming of that one Goth singer, Nullifer, Louis starts to headbang as he's too lured to the beat to care. Too mesmerized by the growls the singer belts, too lost to its basses.

He begins rocking his body back and forth, mouthing some of the screeched words, proceeding on to wearing some of his black skinny jeans and slipping on his black Vans shoes.

While Louis does just that, from inside the loo meanwhile, Harry is taking quite long with showering. He's too posh and too delicate to finish quickly. Quite the neat freak kind even in his early age of pre-pubescent, thirteen, wanting all but to maintain his feminine thoroughly cleaned self.

And just to put it less vaguely, the Styles brothers are both basically getting ready for another day in school. Louis only hates it a bit.  _A bit lot._

Anyway, Harry is like. . . this Hipster Flower Child (as they call it) kind of boy. That when he steps out of the loo, he doesn't care that he's practically naked from head to toe (Louis can literally see his privates!), not wearing any towel, majestic curly hair dripping wet creating mini ponds across the room.

He's a little bit  _too much_ confident with his milky skin-toned body as is, as well as with how he dresses quite flamboyantly, throwing off some lavender button-up shirt and white skinnies.

And see, the thing is, Louis doesn't mind. And Harry doesn't either. Harry doesn't mind that his older brother is 'Punk' and he's not, and that he's a complete opposite of him, they both are to each other, in fact.

So there's that. Louis and Harry are the opposites of each other. But do they care? Or do they even get along?

The answers are both yes and no. They don't care, but care at the same time, and that yes they get along. They get along just...fine.

Or maybe  _more than_ fine, to be precised. Whatever. (Louis doesn't look away even when Harry's noticed his older brother is openly checking him out. They're a bit used to it by now.)

Down in the kitchen a far bit later on, Anne makes them some breakfast, ham and toast, and Harry gratefully eats his, sitting on one of the chairs cheerily, thanking his mother.

Louis on the other hand, however, says he'll just eat his on the bus on their way to the school, reasoning out he's not hungry anyway and that they'll just take long, like he wouldn't risk being late. Anne sure is cross about this, of course she is, but it's  _Louis_ \--Anne knows better not to argue. All she does now is pack him his breakfast and give it to him right after.

Louis takes it, turning around and leaving the kitchen for the living room. Sitting on the couch, Louis flicks the telly on and idly stares at it. He isn't watching--just staring. Because he's actually waiting for his baby brother to finish.

Finally emerging from the kitchen, Harry immediately flashes Louis his cheeky dimpled grin, meaning he's ready to go and that he's eaten well. And Louis gets that, so he stands up and shuts the telly off. Anne soon follows them as she tangles her bathrobe securely around her waist, motioning for both boys to get to the front door.

It's Harry who first kisses her sloppily on the cheek, leaving a bit of saliva in his wake but making her smile all the same. "Bye, mum," Harry drawls, voice usually syrupy slow and deep, the Slow Talker of the family.

After Harry, Anne turns to Louis, raising an eyebrow at him. Rolling his eyes, pretty much defiant on breaking his 'rebellious punk child' image by kissing his mum as well, Louis opts for just going along with it, knowing Anne won't have any of his protests. Louis tiptoes and kisses his mummy too, just quicker this time unlike with Harry, who's happy with giving people kisses and hugs and big smiles.

"Alrighty then," Anne chirps, clapping her hands. "Off you go, boys." Anne ushers her sons to go outside the threshold, bidding them goodbyes and wishing them both luck for yet another day at school, which also means away from her.

The two leave the house and the front yard, turning to their right.

Along the pavement, Harry walks on the safer side while Louis insists he takes the dangerous side. Harry worries, but doesn't say it out loud. It's just a small walk to the bus stop anyway, and besides, there's supposed to be no argument, Louis'  _always_ right.

By the time they reach the bench where they always go in the mornings, kids from other schools have gone and so it's just the two of them. Louis sits on it, puts his leg over one thigh, and pulls out some pack of cigarettes. Harry sees this, is startled by it. And Louis can feel it too--such loud-thinking Harry is doing right now, the boy way too obvious that he has something to say. Harry still won't talk though. He can't. He's just standing there, gripping the handles of his body bag.

Lighting one stick of cigarette that is tucked in between his lips, Louis takes a drag, inhales, and then blows afterwards, letting out some gray smoke. It goes on like that for a while; Louis smoking, Harry keeping quiet, and then the two of them waiting for their ride.

Taking probably his fourth to the last drag, Louis suddenly hears Harry coughing violently beside him, making him stand up instantly and rub on his baby brother's back, stretching his left hand away from Harry--the one where he's holding his killer stick. Back being rubbed, Harry leans against his older brother's touch almost immediately as though he's a cat craving for attention. And Louis likes that about Harry, he does, but he needs to focus on making him feel better firsthand.

"You okay, princess?" Louis asks, rubbing small circles on Harry's back.

Harry stops coughing, nodding his head. "Yeah, just. . . my throat just got a bit itchy. I sniffed some of your, uh, smoke. But I'm fine now, don't worry!"

"Ah,  _shit_ ," Louis curses. Louis swears now, apparently, but Harry on the other hand, doesn't. He simply refuses. Even when he's a right adult, he's once told himself. Shaking his head as though he's just done something stupid, Louis flicks away his cigarette and turns to his brother. "Sorry, H. I didn't realise. I-- I forgot you're asthmatic. Fuck-"

"Sshh," Harry says quickly to hush him, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hey, Lou, it's okay - I'm fine. No one's dying." He chuckles, pulling the sarcasm card. Louis only looks at him, serious about all this. Harry quits his cackling because of that. "A-anyway," Harry starts to say, suddenly feeling awkward now that Louis' staring at him intensely, "Does. . . does mum know?"

Louis sighs and takes a step back, looking back ahead to see if their bus is to arrive. "Nah," Louis answers after a long while.

"Oh," Harry replies, blinking, quiet beside Louis.

"Yeah," Louis murmurs. "Why? You. . . gonna tell her?"

Harry looks at him hastily at this, lips parted. "What?  _No_. No, Louis."

Louis hums, nodding just once and still refusing to look at Harry even when Harry's attention is all focused on him. "Okay," he mumbles, "good."

Just as Harry's about to respond back to him again, he is cut off mid-thought as their school bus arrives with a loud honk, stopping in front of the two of them by the bench. Louis nudges Harry's elbow with his, nodding towards the bus, indicating  _ladies first._ Harry knows that so he wordlessly obeys to his older brother's order, climbing up the bus, and then leads the way to their usual seats at the back.

Once they've settled inside, the bus starts to move again. And the rest that are their schoolmates who are bantering around them-- some waving at Louis and some smiling at Harry, The Famous Styles Brothers-- those that are also seated on each their designated seat, are all completely tuned out by them now, their attention stuck to their own little worlds. Like always.

Passing shops, houses, crossing roads and bridges after a while, after not being able to keep his thoughts to himself any longer, Harry once and for all lets it out, settling for a mild suggestiveness. He doesn't want Louis to feel bad after all. "Don't let her catch you," he's saying, voice completely soft, gaze darted to the back of the seat in front of them on the bus. Louis looks at the same thing Harry's looking at with that, all his attention directed to his brother now. Harry continues on, "Because I don't want you to get in trouble."

Finally facing him, Louis looks at Harry's cheek at the moment-- it looks so soft and warm, it's even pink because of the heat, probably-- making him think of actually touching it.  _Just to feel_ , Louis thinks, just to know it's real, just to feel him, his baby brother.

Harry; his baby brother, his thirteen year-young brother, whose heart as precious as gold, whose face more beautiful than the most beautiful girl alive, whose personality more interesting and lovelier than the best person in the world known, whose flower child Louis most certainly loves kissing, loves hugging, cuddling, touching-- whose person Louis won't, ever, allow losing.

And so Louis finally responds, voice soft and warm now, fond, unlike earlier when there's Anne and he and Harry weren't alone. "Of course, princess." Princess. It's what Louis decided calling Harry ever since he knew about his sexual orientation, even at such a young age. Probably because Harry is smart-- he's intelligent-- therefore he knows already what he is, what he wants. "Don't. . . don't worry about it. Mum won't have to catch me and know I am smoking."

Suppressing a very bright and warm smile, Harry finally turns his face to look at his brother straight in the eyes.  _They're so blue and beautiful_ , Harry thinks, he loves them very much.

"That's my Louis," he says around a teasing grin, instead of just a regular smile, voice hushed. "I love you."

Louis blushes, looking away and out the window next to him. "Haz. . . ," he admonishes, "stop that. Not here. You can't just-"

Harry cuts him off short and tips his chin up, forcing him to look at him. "Where's the  _princess_ , Lou? Call me that. Please?" He puckers his snout as he pouts, making his lower lip jut out in emphasis. He flutters his eyelashes for good measure.

Louis blushes even more now, face to face with Harry and-- and his annoyingly  _adorable_ puppy face. Louis hates him loads. "Fine," he says, sighing, "princess." Harry starts to beam again and, God how Louis loves seeing that. Those dimples, those pink cheeks, those red full lips, those mesmerizing green eyes. "Princess," Louis says again, "princess, princess,  _princess._  There. Happy now?" He raises an eyebrow at his baby brother.

Harry shakes his head, however. He's back on pouting again. Louis gets confused. Where is he lacking on? "You forgot the most important one that I want to hear, Louis. . ."

And then it hits him. Louis rolls his eyes but he is smiling and fuck, his fond is damn showing.  _Flooding_. Louis' gone and all over the place for his baby brother.

"I love you," Louis says. He finally says it, and it makes Harry extra bright. Brighter than the sun itself. "You're brighter than the sun, do you know that?" Louis blurts, shaking his head on himself the last minute.

"Am I though?" Harry teases, blushing so much and happily. . . is quite a bit in love. Louis only nods. "Well, in that case," Harry starts to say, leaning in, "I'm gonna have to reward you."

"Reward me what?" Louis puzzles. Oh, this doesn't sound good. This screams trouble.

Leaning in some more, Harry doesn't hesitate as he lets their lips meet, sticking out his tongue first like a daft so he can right away taste his older brother's pink lips. (Harry's not a very good kisser--  _yet-_ \- see. So perhaps he only kisses to taste or to savor, vise versa) (weird, huh).

Louis' eyes widen-- they widen so much he's afraid people might mistake him of drug usage-- as Harry presses their lips much firmer, him being pressed against the fiberglass window behind him, and Harry leaning against him even more.

Louis pulls away quickly, just right after he's recovered from being overwhelmed and aghast. Harry's being reckless.

"Harry-- I-- I mean,  _princess_ ," Louis stutters, face flushed red. "What was that for? You can't just-- fuck, you can't just do  _that_."

Harry frowns, crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face ahead. He's being stubborn and immature and demanding again. Louis sighs, closes his eyes. He rubs at his temples as he stresses over this.

And then silence falls before them, the only source of noise being their background, their surroundings, their schoolmates in the bus.

After a while, Harry speaks with his words croaked out. "Why can't I kiss you whenever I want to? It's. . . it's not fair."

Louis opens his eyes, looks at Harry and frowns. "Because, princess, we're-"

" _Don't_ ," Harry immediately cuts him off, too hurt and vulnerable and fragile now at this point to even handle that cruel, stupid word:  _brothers_. Their true relation. That one thing that's keeping them like this-- this guarded and forbidden. Hiding and miserable.

Shutting his mouth, Louis lowers his gaze and searches for Harry's hand. Once found, Louis takes it and lets their fingers interlock. Harry doesn't utter a word in regards to it, despite him being naturally fond of holding hands, cuddling, kissing and such. He only squeezes their hands together, and then that's that.

And maybe, that's good enough for Louis. Just that-- just Harry acknowledging his effort of compromising with him.

After a beat, it's Louis' turn to speak, will try to reassure his baby brother. "Don't worry, my princess. When we get home, when we get into our room, I'll probably let you kiss me all you want. Anytime, H, anytime."

Smiling, Harry hums in glee. And then afterwards, they're being dropped off to school. . .

Harry can't wait to get to class, home, their room, and then kiss Louis again. Again, again, and again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💕
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Do you think this is right? Is this too wrong that it feels so right? Also, have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend? What are/were they like?


	3. 💗 harry and louis: at 2 and 4 💗

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smarty pants baby niall and baby louis ahead.

**[** **你是否依然爱我，当我不再年轻，漂亮吗？** **]**

**Harry [2]:** _Oblivious yet aware_   
**Louis [4]:** _Possessing without knowing_

**_#_ **

Louis, Gemma, Anne and Harry are currently at the park.

It's a tropical weather that they're having today. The sun amidst the white washed clouds, birds flying lower than usual, trees swaying with just the right amount of force-- not really that being pushed by the nonexistent strong wind.

Everything that's present here are all treated fine and well--  _normal._  People everywhere are just being people; it's just a nice typical Tuesday.

There really is no special about today, is there? Or well, except for the Styles family being together. Just that. Or maybe we should erase the word just, because it's way  _more_ than just that. And if Anne's bright smile has any given indication to how wonderful and how one of a kind this certain day is, then there really is that.

While Anne takes care of Harry, the cute little baby wriggling and squirming in her arms, Gemma and Louis on the other hand are both by the playground, playing, skipping, laughing and running wild. Anne keeps close in contact with them-- close enough to her kids, watching them play safely and soundly.

Louis is at the sandbox at this very moment, building blocks of sand using a red pale, chatting with some lively kid, one that is probably younger than him what with he's still taller even if he's crouching.

Niall. That's the kid's name. Irish, pale, red-cheeked despite the lack of warmth, crooked teeth and contagious laugh. Louis has just met him a while ago, and now they're like buddies who've been buddies for years.

"Niall, hand me the shovel," Louis commands with his high-pitched youthful voice, pointing at the bright yellow shovel plaything on the other side of the sandbox.

Niall nods, going towards the edge of the sandbox and picking up the said bright yellow shovel, going back to Louis right after and giving it to him. Louis takes it, nodding his thanks, and then returning back to what he's busied himself doing, as though he's some kind of a surgeon, Niall being his assistant. Which, makes sense if he's honest, because it's Louis' dream to become a doctor someday.

As Louis works on the sandcastle he's trying so hard to build, in which he actually isn't good at seeing it's a mess he's been doing, Niall suddenly speaks, catching Louis' attention quite a bit. "Is that your mum right there?"

Louis looks up for a brief moment, glancing at Anne by the bench. "Yeah," he says quietly. Louis knows he really isn't a biological son of Anne-- Anne's told him that already, didn't want him to get all interrogating once he's grown up and feel bad if he later on finds out the truth-- but he isn't telling his new friend that. Louis is pretty reserved about such stuff.

Nodding, Niall says, "She seems nice."

"She is."

"Well, mine is over there." Niall points to the other bench where a woman and some boy are sitting, eating some hotdogs on sticks. Louis nods, mumbling  _cool._

After a while, and after Louis has managed to actually maintain a two-storey sandcastle, Niall asks him again, and this time, it really gets his full attention. "How about the baby she's carrying? She your sister?"

Looking back at Anne, and then his baby brother in her arms, Louis tells Niall while he sweeps his damped fringe on the side, "No."

"No?" Niall quizzes, "then who. . ."

"He's my baby brother," Louis simply says, gaze focused on Harry's cute and cuddly features. Returning his attention to Niall in front of him, he adds, "So he's not my sister. He's my  _brother_."

"Oh."

Louis sniffles, rubbing his fingers under his nose and wiping off some sweats that are building up across his snout, sure enough leaving some dirt on it afterwards. "What's made you even think that he's a girl?" he mumbles, quite amused.

Niall shrugs at that-- he simply shrugs-- crouching down in front of their sandcastle. "I just thought he was. I've mistaken him for a girl, I guess."

Something weird that is curling from the depths of Louis' tummy suddenly erupts. He doesn't know what it is, doesn't know why it's surfaced either, but Louis knows for sure he doesn't like what he's heard coming out of this Niall kid. And now he's suddenly being defensive about all this-- about Harry. "Are you saying that you think my baby brother is  _pretty_?" he asks, voice clear and sharp.

Niall looks up to stare at him with that, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. "I. . . I. . . no?" He asks it more than he states it, making Louis even angrier. "I mean, yeah. I mean, he's pretty. E-even from afar?" Niall's stammering now. And maybe-- maybe Louis needs to calm down.

Huffing in annoyance, Louis' eyebrows knot together as he shifts from where he's crouched down, looking at their sandcastle instead of looking at Niall. "He is pretty, of course," he agrees, sounding snippy and biased, annoyed. . . possessive. Looking at Harry again who's reaching Anne's face with his chubby hands, Louis adds, voice screaming  _territorial_ , "But he's mine."

Niall doesn't reply to that anymore, probably too scared now to talk. Why is his new friend Louis being like this? Niall's only stated a fact, right? It's not like he's trying to steal Louis' brother from him. . . He's just being a kid. A friendly and talkative kid.

And anyway, Niall is only three. He can even barely run, lest steal a baby. Jeez.

Opting for topic change, Louis asks Niall about other stuff instead. Stuff that doesn't include his baby brother, Harry. He asks Niall if he's in the daycare too like him-- about how old is he now, what is his favorite cartoon show, favorite snack, favorite fruit-- and just about all of his favorites. Louis returns the favor of saying his too, and they are back on playing again, this time a pirate pretend kind of game.

Minutely so, when Louis' truly and epic-ly filthy with sand now, Gemma arrives at the sandbox and calls out on her brother. Louis and Niall look over, dropping what they're doing to regard Gemma.

"Yeah?" Louis asks.

"Mum said to get you. We're going home," she says curtly, nodding at Anne's direction. Louis looks ahead, seeing Anne standing up from the bench and tucking Harry in his pram.

Louis nods, stands up and dusts his pants. Gemma makes a face with that, nose scrunched up, disgusted with how much sand Louis has gathered. Louis doesn't care though-- he's had fun.

"So, I guess I'll see you around?" Niall says behind him all the sudden, making him whip around. He's forgotten about the boy.

"Oh," Louis says, eyebrows high under his fringe. "Yes, yes," he belatedly says, "sure. We only live a few blocks away from here anyway."

Niall nods, beaming. "Cool."

Clearing her throat, Gemma taps her foot impatiently. "Ready to go, Lou?"

Louis nods, "'Kay, Gems bear."

"Don't call me that."

Retreating back to their mother and leaving Niall, Louis' first instinct is to bop his baby brother's nose with his, only wanting to make the baby giggle. So Louis does-- or  _attempts_ rather, because Anne didn't let him.

Louis frowns, feeling a pang on his chest almost instantly, being pushed away from  _his_  Harry. "I just want to bop our noses, mummy," Louis tells Anne, eyebrows creased and lips puckering.

Anne shakes her head, defiant but also gentle to her son at least. "Oh, but, Lou," she says softly, "you're dirty, honey. You shouldn't come near Hazza if you're dirty-- because he'll get dirty too, then there will be the two of you."

Louis scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest. Anne sighs, shoving a bottle of milk on Harry's mouth. Gemma snickers at the commotion, the cheeky devil she is.

"Let's go home then," Louis says, "so I can wash up and finally touch baby Hazzie."

"Good idea," Anne concedes.

The minute they get back home, as well as the minute Anne's pushed the door open, Louis practically charges in between Anne and the door's slight crack, dashes his way to the bathroom and strips. Anne can't help smile at that-- her fond for Louis' eagerness for his baby brother showing-- looking at young Gemma next to her and beckoning for her to guide her younger brother to wash up. Gemma rolls her eyes at this, finds it tiring and ridiculous, but obeys her mum anyway.

Inside the bathroom, Gemma finds her brother already under the spray and soaked, hair damped. Some of the dirt on his body are gone now, but there are yet some along his neck and throat, so Gemma strides in and helps Louis wash up.

As they do just that, Gemma suddenly asks, "Who's that kid then?"

"Huh?" Louis glances up at her, some soap lingering on his left eye, making him squint.

"That. . . kid on the playground, I mean. Is he a friend? Classmate?"

"Oh," Louis finally remembers, "That's Niall. He's not my classmate at daycare. Just a boy I met there on the sandbox."

Gemma nods, rubbing some soap on Louis' back. "Ah, I see," she murmurs.

Looking down on his toes, Louis grins. "Why? You fancy him?" he teases.

Gemma smacks him across the nape, but it's not that hard. Louis cackles. "I do  _not_ ," Gemma protests.

"Why? You like that four-eyed Ashton nerd boy from school instead?" Louis teases some more.

Don't get Louis wrong, he hates it that Gemma is being linked to some kids, at school and at the playground. Though the thing here is, this is  _Louis and Gemma_ \-- they bicker and tease each other always, and it's just a very normal thing for them. Typical brother-sister relationship.

And to be honest, Louis cares for Harry more than Gemma betwixt his siblings. He doesn't say that out loud, but they all must know by now. So maybe sometimes that's the main reason he could care less about Gemma being partnered with anyone, even with her handsome teacher in her Elementary school, and yet gets furious at Niall for only thinking that Harry is pretty from earlier on.

"Maybe," Gemma says after a while, raising one of her eyebrows and turning on the spray again to have Louis thoroughly cleansed out. "Maybe not."

"Whatever," Louis only says in response.

After Louis' taken a bath, Gemma prepares him some clean clothes to wear. His favorite Spider-Man shirt and powder blue pajama bottoms. Louis quickly wears them, ruffles his damp honey blonde hair, comb be damned, and then rushes out and into the kitchen.

Harry is seated in a highchair when Louis sees him as he trudges in, Anne serving him some milk and cookies on the tray in front of him, Harry letting go of suckling his thumb and taking one baked cookie to munch on. Louis joins them, sitting across his baby brother. Anne also serves him some milk and cookies.

" _Harry_ ," Louis coos to his baby brother, taking a bite on a cookie in his hand and making a funny face. "How cute are you, baby Harry?"

Harry wriggles and pounds from where he's trapped in the highchair, smiling big at Louis across from him, cute dimples denting his reddened cheeks. Harry starts giggling, being the bundle of joy that he naturally is.

"He really likes you, doesn't he?" Anne muses beside them, shaking her head in awe.

Louis smiles proudly, as if to say  _who doesn't like Louis_ , biting on his second cookie.

After a while, Harry starts crying. Anne goes to carry him then, but he doesn't stop. Louis slides down on the chair and rushes over to them.

He offers Harry a cookie. Harry stops crying in an instant at that, taking the offered cookie. Anne watches her sons have their very own way of communicating, without actually talking to each other verbally so since Harry doesn't know how to speak yet, but just smiling and staring straightly into one another's eyes.

She finds it lovely and odd at the same time, but she doesn't comment on it in her head. Maybe her and Jay's sons really are just  _that_  meant to be close to each other like she and her-- to beat the odds together when they grow up-- and to become the dream team, as they would so call it.

Anne doesn't even worry if they somehow end up being more than those kinds of 'meant to be' things. Maybe because normally, fate does everything for her-- for  _them_ \-- nowadays. It's been a bit predictable.

Maybe.

"You say,  _thank-you_ ," Louis coos at Harry again, nodding his head, bright and twinkling gaze focused entirely on Harry's face. Louis' making him talk.

Harry only giggles though, can't really talk yet, reaching on to grab for Louis' face.

Anne's heart melts against her chest just quite a bit more, having witnessed this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💟
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Favorite bottom harry fics on ao3? Rec me some!!! JUST AO3 FICS THO, PLEASE!


	4. 💗 harry and louis: at 7 and 9 💗

**[** **所以你不要担心你的漂亮的小心思。人们扔** **石头的东西闪耀。而生命做爱看很难。** **]**

**Harry [7]:** _Enthusiastic, birthday boy_   
**Louis [9]:** _Forgetful, swearing boy_

**#**

Harry's just turned seven many hours ago, while everyone's asleep yet including him, and Louis may or may not have forgotten about it.

(Well, he's doomed if he's forgotten that's for sure. Like, totally doomed).

Louis wakes up from someone jumping wildly on his bed. It jiggles, the bed, the mattress he's been lying on making him open his eyes slowly and jerk awake. He groans, rubbing at his eyes, letting out a yawn minutes later. And then there is someone who's practically yelling in his ear, basically annoying him with these,

"Today's the day!"

It's his baby brother, Harry. Who else?

He's shaking Louis awake, continuously yelling just those three certain words over and over again, while he jumps on Louis' bed, throwing off some pillows on his legs. Louis oddly shoots up from bed with that, fuming mad. His teeth are gritting in rage.  _Uh-oh._

" _What the?_ " are his first snapped out words. And then his piercing blue eyes instantly fixate on Harry's beaming features in front of him just like that, the green-eyed giddy boy standing on the foot of his bed, is minutely so far away from him-- from his ear-- all the sudden. The little boy slowly shuts down from being so bright just now. "Harry?" Louis mutters darkly. "What the hell are you. . . doing?"  _He swore_. Louis swore! And his voice grows louder, "What's-- what's going on? Why did you wake me the damn hell up?" He snaps.  _Oh. . ._

Harry cringes at the tone of Louis' voice, not so giddy anymore, right eye twitching, clarification of fear showing from how he looks at Louis. "I'm. . . I'm truly sorry, Lou, but I just-- I woke you up, because it's my-"

" _Shut up!_ " Louis shouts at him, cutting him off, "Get out! What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm still so tired and sleepy and dreaming, you  _stupid_ \--," Louis doesn't complete his outrageous word vomit, just sighs exasperatedly to end it. "Just-- just get out!" He adds anyway, very angry at Harry.

Harry just can't do that to Louis though, can he? He can't just wake him up because he thinks it's necessary and funny.

Louis may allow anything, like absolutely anything he does, but not today. Today, Louis is tired. He is tired and he wants to sleep for a bit much longer. Harry doesn't always have to have the upper hand, you know? Just because Louis spoils him, lets him do whatever he wishes, doesn't mean Louis shouldn't scold him for being an annoying younger brother in the earliest of the morning, for once--  _for fucking once._

Just because Louis loves him, it doesn't mean that he can wake Louis up and take advantage of the flooding adoration Louis has for him, do something reckless and be forgiven _just like that._

Harry deserves some beating up too-- some scolding-- some heart-shattering yelling from Louis, his older brother.  _His older brother, for Christ's sake._

And just to put it simply, Harry and Louis sometimes need to be real brothers to each other too-- act like a real one, not some sort of. . .  _sick kids! Incest!_ Even just for once, even just for a day. Today.

Anyway, Louis has succeeded.

He's succeeded on making Harry feel bad, resented. Unloved.

Poor little Harry starts tearing up.

He sniffs as he rubs furiously on his eyes, as though that would work upon making his tears stop rushing down. Louis groans again then, and this time it's not because he's still angry at Harry. But at himself. For making Harry cry.

"Oh, come on, Hazza," Louis sighs, kneeling and crawling towards Harry. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry. It's just that I'm so sleepy, and you woke me, and I'm like, dreaming on something  _so precious_ , and just-," Louis pauses, sighs. "Look, I'm sorry-" He tries reaching out to touch Harry, but it doesn't happen, because the next thing he knows is Harry's jumping off his bed and is backing away towards the door-- the exit-- ready to run away from him. Louis. The one Harry loves so much; the one he looks up to so much. The one he feels  _so_  proud of.

Louis, the one who Harry deems is so important to him, that he's the one Harry's wanted to see first thing when he's opened his eyes on this special day--  _his birthday._ The older brother who's hurt him in return anyway. Sadly.

Sniffing and not really being able to either wipe away or stop his tears from rushing out his sad, plain green eyes anymore, Harry tells Louis instead, the boy still by the bed, "You forgot."

And that's all it's taken for Louis to finally remember that,  _yeah, right, holy guacamole, it's Harry's birthday today._  Of course, how dare he forget about that one? Jesus Christ, what a bummer. How dare Louis forget about  _his_ Harry's birthday? Of all days! How even? How did that one particular day slip his mind? Like, he's been thinking about that for almost two months now-- been contemplating on what should he get Harry for his birthday.  _Ugh!_

No, no, no.

"H-Hazza," Louis breathes out,  _stutters_ out, guilt coursing through his entire soul. . . probably. "I'm so, so  _sorry_."

Harry juts out his snout, pouting and sniffing just once, pained facial expression fully emphasized. And then he is gone, just as Louis' about to walk towards him.

Louis stares blankly on the empty entryway of their room. The Harry that was once there, has completely gone off-- to sulk or cry some more or perhaps be sad-- somewhere.

Somewhere where Louis isn't.

Well, great. Just great.

💚💙

Wasn't able to fall back to sleep again because of being haunted by guilt and conscience for making Harry cry earlier, Louis finds himself sitting on one of the chairs-- one that is across from Harry himself-- around the table in the kitchen after some time.

The Styles are having breakfast. And Louis can't seem to eat, feeling quite awkward having to see Harry looking out of it right in front of him, frowning and not on his usually enthusiastic aura like earlier. . . Well, Louis can like, just actually bury himself alive now. He hates it--  _absolutely hates it_ \-- that he can't bring himself to apologize to Harry right now, right this instant. Right in front of the others (i.e. Gemma and their mum), what with they're all oblivious to what's happened to him and Harry just now.

It's pretty confidential, he and Harry. Their bond, their friendship, their odd 'relationship'. So Louis keeps quiet, and then there's that.

"So," Anne suddenly says, tapping the table, making Louis jump. "How about we sing our little Hazzie a Happy Birthday, hmm? The silence is bad for our health after all."

Gemma grins, is into it. Louis on the other hand, however, is gazing at his little brother awkwardly. Harry just sighs at him. At  _all_  of this.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Anne starts to sing, "Happy birthday, Harry," Gemma follows, "Happy birthday, dear Ha- _rrie_ ," Louis does too, mumbling out his words mostly, "Happy. . . birth. . .  _day_. . . Harry."

Anne claps her hands, so does Gemma, cheering Harry on. "Okay, that was. . . great!" Anne chirps. "Now, eat up, young lads and young lady, I'm just going to drop by to Tesco for some feast for later, okay? Also the birthday cake! So behave." Turning to Harry, Anne asks, "Honey, do you want some tacos for your birthday?"

Tacos are Harry's favorite.

He only shrugs though. He's seriously lacking of enthusiasm. "Sure," he mutters out. Anne beams, oblivious to everything her sons are currently undergoing. . . Or maybe she just doesn't want to acknowledge it, wants for this day to be perfect and happy, instead of any negativity entering through. Whichever.

"Alrighty then," Anne chirps. She rounds the table, taking her half-finished plate of salsa, setting it down on the sink. "I'm off. Call me if anything happens while I'm gone. Gems, you're in charge of your brothers. Make sure everything's okay, okay?"

Gemma nods, smirking. "Ya heard that, squirts?" she boasts. Her brothers don't seem to care, however, though. She rolls her eyes at them.

As soon as Anne leaves, Harry stands up with his gaze all blanked and lowered, accidentally making his chair screech from underneath as he does so. "I'm not hungry," he murmurs to the floor, slowly and blatantly leaving the kitchen. Louis' gaze follows Harry's back with that, biting his lip and never ceasing the saddening picture.

And that's even until Harry's turned a corner to go up to their room, slowly but surely leaving his peripheries and all.

That is Louis' cue to leave the kitchen too, then, ignoring Gemma's calls about  _at least put your plates on the sink, you goofs!_ because he just knows Harry needs him.

Louis skips two steps by two up their staircase, dashing his way along the hallway, and stopping briefly in front of his and Harry's room. He opens it gently, looking ahead. And as soon as he's strode in, Harry is immediately saying, "Go away, Lou. I hate you."

Frowning, Louis sighs as he goes toward Harry, who's sitting on the floor, wide palms flat on his face. "Haz. . . I said I was sorry. Look, I-," Louis stops himself, before it can actually slip from him. That word.

"Look, you,  _what_?" Harry, however, presses the unfinished sentence. "Look, 'you forgot about my birthday'? Is that it?" Harry scoffs, gathering and hugging his knees with his arms. "I thought you'd never forget, but you did," he says, "I never forget yours, but you did mine. You. . . you even almost. . .almost called me a stupid something."

Louis' heart aches. He can't take this. "I'm sorry, H. I really am. Please. Please, I was. . . I was just tired, okay?"

Harry looks up, meeting Louis' gaze. "You yelled at me," he simply says. "You yelled at me and it hurt." Harry starts to tear up again, voice croaking when he proceeds, "It hurt so much, Lou."

Weakening on the knees, Louis involuntarily sinks down on the ground, leveling with Harry. He tries to reach out, but Harry visibly flinches so he retrieves his hand back instead, afraid he might scar Harry some more. "Forgive me, Hazza. . . please. I'm sorry. Happy birthday, Haz. . . I'm sorry. I love you."

Harry shakes his head, tears rolling down his red cheeks. "Leave me alone," he croaks. "Just leave me alone, Louis."

Louis. Now, now. . . Harry doesn't usually call him that. Not when he's not serious about something or upset or mad. Jeez. Louis thinks he might cry.

"Haz, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay?" And. . . there. Louis starts to cry too, croaking his words out. "I didn't-- I didn't mean it, I swear." Harry looks at him, wiping on his own tears. Louis doesn't stop, continuous on with profusely apologizing to Harry. "I'm sorry if I yelled at you, H. I'm sorry I was sleepy and snippy. I'm sorry I was tired, because stupid, stupid me stayed up all night last night. I-- I'm sorry I forgot about y-your birthday. . . Just-- I'm sorry. I'm very sorry, H. Please."

Louis is full on sobbing at this point, hiccuping violently, having some trouble breathing. Harry swallows hard with this, all new batch of tears once again presenting from his eyes. And then he's suddenly reaching out to touch Louis. . . only that he doesn't though.  _Touch_ Louis, that is. Because Harry actually hugs him, wrapping both his arms around Louis' entire shaking body.

"Oh, my God," Harry breathes out, sniffing, eyes wide. "Oh, my God," he repeats. "My Louis. . . my Louis."

Louis clings to him, burying his face at the crook of Harry's neck. "'M sorry, Haz. . . ," he yet again manages to croak out, words muffled. "'M really sorry."

Harry starts stroking Louis' hair. He's frowning, letting his fat tears roll down his red cheeks. Now they're both a sobbing mess. "Stop crying now, Lou," Harry weakly says, "I'm sorry too. . . Oh, god. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."

Louis rubs his face against Harry's warm skin. "Don't apologize, H. 'S not your fault. It was me who yelled at you. On your special day, of all days. I deserve to be punished like this. . ."

Harry tightens his arms around his big brother, shaking his head. "No," he says, "Don't say that. Stop it. . . stop saying that."

Louis only sobs harder, hiccups coming in a faster stride. Harry starts to worry then. Louis is like, the bravest boy Harry knows; one who doesn't cry, one who defends him all the time if anyone tries to hurt him. And now he's someone who's crying so much like this. Harry should take pride in this-- or perhaps be immensely ashamed of himself-- for making such a brave boy like Louis Styles break like this. For him. Because of him.

Louis is so serious about him it's questionable. Louis is so attached to him it's uncanny.

And you know what, Harry is too. In fact, he's more attached to Louis than Louis is to him. And that's why they're currently like this anyway. So vulnerable for one another. Probably because they're in too deep for each other-- as best friends, brothers-- as more than what they think they are.

But then again, they're only kids, they aren't aware of it-- of how they truly feel-- so they don't think about such thing just yet. Not as normally at least. And the keyword is yet.

Parting from hugging, Louis and Harry look at each other for a long time, the two of them donning puffy red eyes, their lips also red and swollen, their cutie little noses in painful shades of reds.

They're both such pain in the arses for one another is what they are. And that, at least, they know.

"Happy birthday, Hazzie," Louis says after a while, caressing Harry's cheek and thumbing away his tears. "I love you. . . Mum loves you. Gemma loves you."

Suppressing a small and sad smile, Harry cups Louis' face and bops their noses together. "I love you too, Lou. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"I'm sorry I was a complete shit to you this morning. This could've been a perfect birthday for you-"

"Nah," Harry cuts him off, smiling genuinely now and closing his eyes. His dimples are showing. "Still a perfect birthday," he mumbles, pressing his and Louis' foreheads together, "because I just made someone like you cry. It only means I affect you just as much as you do me. And that's the best gift so far."

Louis blushes. Why is he blushing? This is his brother--  _his baby brother._

After a beat though, he still blurts out, wasn't thinking coherently, but just following what his heart has been truly telling him, "You always do though, H. Like. . . I think, you're my everything."

Harry hums appreciatively, is so, so happy.

"Happy birthday to me then."

"Yeah. Happy birthday to you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💚💙
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Who's your favorite character yet? Also, who's your OTP and why? ;-)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. 💗 harry and louis: at 12 and 14 💗

**[** **我們讓這些回憶自己** **... ]**

**Harry [12]:** _Knowing what they wanted at such a young age_  
 **Louis [14]:**   _Finding clarity in the one they truly desire_

**_#_ **

Looking at the clock for probably the millionth time now (hyperbole intended, of course) since his brother's left the house, Harry stands up from the couch and shakes his head, seeing it's already half past nine--an indication it's way past their curfew.

Harry starts to walk, paces on the living room from where exactly he is as he continuously urges himself to calm down, telling his frenzied mind that  _it's just a date, hold it together, Harry, Louis' coming home soon. He is._

But then though, as expected (or not), Harry glances at the clock again, can't help it.

He sighs impatiently, having reminded once more that Louis' almost been out for an hour now.  _An hour!_ He shuts his eyes, trying to ease his mind off of Louis' whereabouts.

And if it isn't quite obvious yet, then yes, Louis is on a date with someone. Harry doesn't know if it's like, a proper date of some sorts, but hell, he's aware that Louis' on a date with the most popular girl in their school. One that is in a much, much higher batch than Harry, one that is beautiful, and one that is, Harry's assuming, certainly Louis' type.

Or so Harry thinks.

Eleanor Calder of the science club. That's the girl Louis' taken out on a date.

Harry thinks it's unfair. . . or whatever.

Yeah, whatever indeed, he'll still wait for his brother to come home no matter.

And why is Harry so worried anyway? What does this serve him as? It's not like Louis can't handle things on his own, right? Louis is the older brother between them two, so it only makes sense he can take care of himself better. Harry knows he shouldn't worry about Louis anymore, but for some reason. . . he can't seem to not to. And it's so frustrating, this thing here that he feels. It's bothering him.

He should probably go to bed now and just call it a night. . .

**_#_ **

He wouldn't.

Come 9:56 PM, Harry is still lying awake across the carpet of their household's living room.  _Yawning non-stop._ The stubborn child he is.

He's been willing himself not to fall asleep for the past half hour now, which makes that one and a half hours of Louis being out of his sight, and. . . God, he's so obsessed.

 _Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic_ , Harry scolds himself mentally,  _you are one pathetic boy who couldn't for the life of him walk straight--_

And then the door is suddenly opening, cutting through Harry's train of scattered thoughts. Louis trudges in. Finally.

He's wearing some fancy clothing right now and by that it means suit and tie--some that Harry prefers worn on him, because according to him, those made Louis look like the younger version of David Beckham himself. Sexy. Alpha-ish. Handsome.  _He's got such handsome brother!_  he wants to yell to the world, but then--

There's another thing that is visibly and prominently etching across Louis' face right now: and it's a frown. A grumpy looking frown.

Harry immediately shoots up from where he lies and goes toward Louis. "Lou!" He chirps, dimples denting both his cheeks. "Finally, you're back!"

Harry practically throws himself on Louis, wrapping his arms around his neck, his legs around Louis' waist. Louis gasps, eyes widening, and instinctively, holds Harry by the bum, carrying him and keeping him from slipping. "Harry," Louis muses. "Jesus. I've just been out for not even that long. What's got into you?"

Harry nuzzles his face at the crook of Louis' neck. "'Missed you."

"That quick?" Louis chuckles, face burning--something he can't explain in words as to why that is.

Harry whines, pounding on Louis' left arm. "You find this funny when it's not! I've been waiting, okay? And yes,  _that_ quick."

Louis chuckles some more, shaking his head now as well, letting go of Harry to make him stand on his own. Harry is smiling sadly up at him, half-pouting, but nevertheless happy to see he's finally home.

Home after just two hours. Jeez. Harry needs to get his shit together, basically. . .

"How come you missed me that much? Isn't mum home? Or Gems?" Louis asks after a while, confused, but is also feeling tingly on the inside just by Harry looking at him like that. Louis doesn't know why, but it does--Harry's intense stare is giving him butterflies. Or maybe fireworks. Either of those, really. It's crazy.

Harry shakes his head, rather stubbornly. "Mum's. . . she. . . she's in her room, yes, but. I don't want, like, I mean-- I want you. Gemma is in her room too, but I didn't want to disturb her study time, so. . . And  _besides_ , it's you that I always want to be with." Harry laughs sardonically, shaking his head again making his curls bounce along. "It's like. . . this shouldn't even be a question, Lou. It's you and me, always, right?"

Clingy. Harry's being a clingy baby bro.

And he neither doesn't realise he's being one nor he gives two shits about it. All he knows is Louis is  _his._ As selfish as that sounds but that's just Harry being practical and--claimant perhaps. Claimant of something (or someone) he knows belongs to him.

Harry is a bad ass you may say. He'd love that.

Sighing fondly, Louis smiles at his brother. "Of course," he says softly, ruffling Harry's curls--to which Harry purrs on like a kitten, pretty much appreciative of Louis' palm caressing his scalp. "It's you and I. Always you and I."

Harry claps his hands twice."Right! If that's so, come with me then!" Without warning, Harry grabs on Louis' wrist and drags him toward the living area. Louis' eyes go wide at the suddenness of the situation, momentarily flabbergasted by his sibling's antics, but also can't help giggle like a daft about it nonetheless. They're really a bunch of goofs if he's completely honest. Facing Louis as they sit on their mother's settee, Harry cups his own cheeks and smiles big at him, "So. . . care to tell me how your date went?"

Louis blinks at this.  _Of all questions_ , he begrudgingly deems,  _why does Harry have to pick this?_

He shakes his head, looking away as he frowns. "I dunno," he mumbles. "Great? I guess?"

"You guess?" Harry muses, innocence in his big ol' Bambi eyes. "I-- why? How? Was. . . was Eleanor like, a bad date or something?"

Louis sighs. "Nah. She's great and all. Uhm, really nice girl,  _honest!_ But uhm, I dunno." Tearing his gaze away from his lap, Louis looks at Harry right in front of him. He bites on his lip. "Maybe. . . maybe I. . ." He trails off, and he's out the sudden amiably shaking his head.

He can't. Louis can't.

"Maybe. . . what, Lou?" Harry presses.

"Nothing, I'm-- nothing. Never mind." Louis stands up from the settee and starts toward the stairs. Harry, confused and curious, decides to trail after him. "I'm just-- gonna go to bed now. I'm tired. I'm gonna go have some, uh, rest," Louis adds in a mumbling tone.

And right. Harry may be young and yet naïve, but he knows Louis like the back of his hand so he can never be fooled to realise something's up. He knows everything when it comes to Louis--like he's expert at reading Louis. So he would find out whether Louis is hiding something from him or not. If there really is none, all that.

And right now, just with the way Louis' been acting ever since he's stepped a foot inside their house, Harry has immediately sensed that something's definitely off. That something's not quite. . . right. Louis isn't himself. And at some crucial times like this, there's only one thing right at this moment that Harry knows--  _remembers_ \-- doing that might just successfully serve him upon making Louis eventually spill. Spill whatever it is he has (or rather needs) to spill.

Harry really hates it when Louis either lies to or hides from him. Is it really too much to ask for pure honesty in this household? Also, it's  _LouisandHarry_ always, right? So secrets should be damned.

Lucky Louis, Harry will not blatantly address the matter. For boundaries and the like. And hence the fact Harry's quietly following his brother to their room.

As they get inside, Louis starts to strip and change into his sleeping clothes. Harry does the same (because he's like a puppy--or maybe a mime, like that one from the Mr. Bean movie--always doing what Louis also does). Odd.

After they change into their matching pajamas, Louis and Harry hop in the loo and brush their teeth side by side rather wordlessly. The mirror had been customized especially for them. (Harry keeps on making faces, but Louis is obviously paying him no mind, biting forcibly his tongue) (Harry wants to roll his eyes at it). Done with brushing, they both leave the loo and tuck themselves to bed. Louis shifts right away, facing the wall. And Harry sees that, making him pout. He wants Louis to face him instead.

Letting it pass in the meantime, Harry blows out a sigh as he reaches for their lamp; he switches it off, the entire room becoming instantly swallowed in whole by darkness.

"Night, Lou," he mumbles, is still hopeful for a nightly conversation. They always do that after all.

"Mhm. . . night, H." Harry feels something twisting in his stomach instantly having heard that. That tone in Louis' voice. The way it sounded in the dark.

Seriously though, what's happened to Louis? He wasn't like that when he left earlier before supper. But now, why? Back from this 'date' with Eleanor. . . he's suddenly acting oddly.  _Strangely_. Like he's been scarred or something. Harry only hopes Eleanor has nothing to do with it, otherwise he'll. . . Nah. Harry can't even hurt a fly, more so hit a girl. Jeez.

Harry looks up from where he lies and stares up at the ceiling that's full of glow-in-the-dark stickers. They had them since he was three and Louis was five. They're the heavenly bodies, not stars, and Harry was the one who'd insisted they go there, in full display, scattered all across their ceiling. He could tell Louis loved them. Even now, actually.

"Hey, Lou?" Harry starts to finally speak, making Louis perk up just a bit.

"Yeah, H?" Louis almost immediately responds. Well, that was. . .  _suspiciously out of character_ , Harry thinks.

"Do you still remember when we were younger? Mum used to tuck us in bed, then we'd wait until she's gone. . ." Louis hums, indicating he does remember. Harry smiles at that, something warm coursing through him. He continues on, "We would play camp back then, build a tent out of pillows and blankets, and then we--"

"We would put our lamp in the middle to light us both so that we can make shadow characters with our hands," Louis finishes for him, is now looking at his direction, refraining from smiling too much. "Why did you bring this up, Hazza?"

Harry faces him too, grinning mischievously. "I say, let's do it."

Louis chuckles, finding it ridiculous. "But, Haz--"

Harry sits up. "Oh, come on,  _Lou_ ," he drawls, dragging Louis' name almost sounding like he's whining it instead. He's still grinning silly though.

Louis rolls his eyes. Fondly for that matter.

Harry patiently waits for his agreement.

Eventually and  _inevitably_ , Louis gives up. Because fuck, if Harry's playing  _that game_ on him, that freaking adorable frog face pulling, then resistance be out of the question. Louis will never stand a chance.

"Fine," he grumbles out.

Harry fist-pumps the air.  _Yayayaya! Dimples out._

Scrambling up to his feet and landing them on the floor, Harry brings his favorite pillow with him and flops himself down on Louis' bed. Louis tries hard and stifles his laughter, afraid that Anne might get disturbed on the other room and scold them for being noisy in the late of night, as he gives room for his baby brother.

"Alright," Harry says, still having that frog grin only he can muster, "now, the lamp."

Reaching out to their nightstand, one that's situated between his and Harry's bed, Louis takes the lamp placed above it. He switches it on as he carefully places it in the middle of the bed. And Louis holds himself together from then because damn if he's not feeling giddy about this whole thing that is such a ridiculous idea. He keeps on biting his lip in the process! It's like he's in grade seven again!

Harry though. . . oh, the sweet ol' Harold. He's much, much worse. He's so obvious with both his dimples on display it's actually contagious. Jesus. He really is serious about this, isn't he?

As they sit across each other with the lamp set in front of them, Harry then once and for all motions for a blanket to be put over their heads. Louis nods at that. Feeling accomplished after they team on Louis' blue  _blankie_ , Harry declares they're ready to go camping.

Just like the old times.

They make animal heads with their hands and fingers alike, Louis doing a puppy and Harry a bunny. . . talking to each other and joking around.

Louis laughs just when he attempts to mock-bite Harry's bunny fingers, to which Harry mocks making a run for, not letting Louis score against him. Tired of doing the bunny, Harry replaces it with a bird. Louis too, although he insists it's a butterfly (so he isn't copying Harry, the git), despite Harry doesn't even mind. They carry on having the time of their lives.

And see, the point of this actually is to make Louis smile again. Genuinely. And will you look at that. Seems like Harry's done it again.

If there's one person who could make Louis smile like he truly means it, it's Harry.

"So," Harry says after a while, catching his breath for he's laughed one too many times, lowering his hands, "feel better now, Lou?"

Louis gives him a half-smile at this, shrugging. "Yeah," he says softly, "thanks."

Harry grins, nodding. "Good."

**_#_ **

They're both catching their breaths. They've never laughed so hard and genuinely for a while.

Comes the calm, silence washes over them. And Harry stares at Louis without moving an inch. No friction, no nothing.

Louis stares back, hands on either side of him.

**_#_ **

It's gone completely quiet inside their room, their little makeshift tent. Dead. Quiet. Louis can only blink those long eyelashes of him. . . languidly so.

**_#_ **

And it's Louis who finally gives and tries to break it.

Despite feeling awkward about it, flailing with his words. . . by his trapped words, Louis manages to open his mouth, "I--"

But then Harry has already beat him to it. He was quick to surge forward and cup Louis' face with his humongous clammy hands, shutting Louis up completely with his lips on his, soft and wet and. . . sweet.

And. What. What's going on?

Louis' eyes are wide, shocked. Overwhelmed.

He doesn't seem capable of moving, eyes just locked on Harry's. Only for a second short moment, because Harry's already lowering down his eyelids. Slowly, slowly. . . dramatically.

Harry's fingers move against the sides of his face, curling on his soft brown hair, tips caressing his cheeks. Louis' getting drunk to this--actually feeling like he could get used to this. Harry's mouth on his, their scents lingering in the air.

Louis moves his lips in sync with Harry's. And it's only gone wetter from there, tongues darting out and chasing each other's tastes.

And wow, okay. Harry's properly snogging him--him, his brother, Louis--and. And apparently, Louis' loving it. He's enjoying this too much.

Slowly and hesitantly, Louis melts into Harry's soft touches and sweet, sweet soft lips. He scoots closer to Harry as if it's not enough that he's kissing him. And until he's on his baby brother's lap then, their arms snaking around each other's small waists. . . They make out for a while, lips locking and tongues suckling.

Harry slides his tongue inside Louis' mouth smoothly, licking tiny stripes, tasting Louis with his wet slick tongue. Louis does the same.

Their snogging lasts for a while (a bit of a long while at that) and then just stops when Louis decides to pull away.

"H, I think I might be gay," comes his confession with his voice sounding so breathless, heart pounding admittedly hard against his chest. Fireworks pool at his stomach, dreading for the worst.

Except there's no worst.

"Then I'm right with my assumptions then," Harry says, just as breathless, curls sticking in different directions. He licks at his lips. They taste like his brother, Louis. And he loves it. He's a fucked up. But he probably doesn't know he's a fucked up though, because he's only twelve (isn't even a perfect kisser yet.) All he knows however is that Louis' lips taste good. He feels like snogging him again.

"Assumptions?" Louis puzzles, is a bit dazed, staring at Harry's swollen red lips. Louis can't believe he's just kissed those. And--oh, God, Harry's his first kiss.

"Yeah," Harry breathes out, "because ever since you came back from your date with Eleanor, you've been acting weird."

"I have?" Louis muses. Then again maybe yes, he had been. "Anyway, just for clarification. . . Eleanor and I didn't go on a date. It's more like a friendly one. I mean, I suppose so it was. We just ate ice cream, talked and that's it. It's just a bet Stan and I started. I lost, so I had to bring Eleanor out."

Harry doesn't know it, but something that screams relief is coursing through him, making him smile big. "Ah. . . I see," he mutters. So it wasn't a date then.

"Yeah." Louis sighs. "On that moment, when I was out with the prettiest girl in our school, I've come to realise that maybe I don't like girls after all. Like, I dunno. I really dunno, H. So perhaps when I got home, I was feeling so lost. I was lost in my thoughts about what I truly wanted." Scratching the back of his neck, Louis looks up to meet Harry's glassy green eyes yet again, ears heating up. "But then, you. . . you kissed me. And that made me realise that, yeah, maybe I am. Like, gay." Stressing his lower lip, Louis suddenly demands an answer, "Why'd you even do that by the way? The kiss?"

Harry shrugs. "I just thought it was necessary, since I also know what I want now," he says simply. Louis raises an eyebrow, an indication that he proceed, so he does, "Well, I. . . I actually had this sort of contemplation for quite some time now, Lou. Like, I think I like wearing feminine clothes more. Than manly ones. Or like, move gracefully, you know? Just like a girl, something like that." Harry breathes in. And then sighs. "Uh, I also don't get attracted to girls, see. . . and I used to wonder why. But then I kissed you just now and, well, it suddenly all makes sense. I loved it. 'Guess, I'm a bit gay too, huh? So there."

He waits for Louis to respond, say something, just anything. And until Louis does. "So it's princess Harry, then?" He jokes.

Harry snorts. "Just princess is okay, Lou, sure."

Louis grins. "Princess. It's settled then," he says. A beat, he adds, "I loved the kiss too by the way. You're my--"

"--first kiss," Harry pipes. Both their eyes go wide, especially Harry. "Wait. Seriously?"

"Yeah."

And oh. "Oh."

**_#_ **

Without much ado, Louis surges forward and so does Harry. They meet each other halfway, letting their lips clash onto one another. Louis parts his lips, giving Harry the chance to lick inside his mouth, producing subtle moans as they once again taste each other's sweetness. From there their kiss became sloppier and messier, both feeling hazy and horny and desperate, like they've waited for this moment all their lives.

And maybe they did.

_Maybe._

The lamp gets knocked off as they continue to kiss, Louis pressing in much further, having Harry lie down to his back and finally Louis settling on top of him. He straddles Harry's meaty thighs and hips, nipping on Harry's bottom lip, to which in return Harry hums for in appreciation. He moves his lips slowly yet deliciously firm against Louis', while Louis grinds awkwardly against him, not really aware of what he's achieving by doing it.

As they keep on doing just this--savoring each other's mouths, grinding ridiculously, and tugging on each other's hairs--suddenly, Anne comes knocking on the door. "Louis? Harry?" She calls, completely unsuspecting.

Louis accidentally kicks the lamp behind him as he jumps to the sound of her voice, making the poor thing fall on the ground, and Harry on the other hand bolts right up. He scrambles to his feet and goes back to his bed at that, and just for the sake of appearing normal, he straightens up and pulls the cover up to his chin. The cheeky bastard.

"What're you boys up to?" Anne asks the moment she's opened the door.

_"Nothing."_

_"Praying."_

Anne raises her eyebrows at them. "O-kay?" she says slowly, giving them a skeptical look. After a beat, she speaks again, "Well, it's way past your bedtime now, so I say you both go to sleep, yeah?"

They both nod. Frantically, for Harry's case. He truly can't lie  _and_ act for shit. "Yes, ma."

Nodding, Anne turns to Louis. "How'd your date go, by the way, Boo?"

Temporarily distracted by Harry's swollen lips just a bed away from him, Louis blinks at this. "Ah?"

"Your date. With-- Ella, is it?"

Oh, right. "It's. . . uhm, okay. It's just okay, mum."

Anne nods again. "Good night then, you two. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Yes, ma, thanks."

In a minute, she's gone.

And in another minute, Louis' gone to Harry's bed and they share it. They snog again, for a while--again, a long while, just until their mouths had enough. Satisfied, they fall asleep with their hands interlocked.

(Bless them).

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✨
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: What's your all time favorite fic of mine and why? I'm curious :p
> 
> Well to be fair, my favorite work is "in the moment we're ten feet tall", because reasons. Uhm. It's broken a lot of hearts, so...


	6. 💗 harry and louis: at 15 and 17 💗

**[** **我只是一個嫉妒的人。** **]**

**Harry [15]:** _The cutest when jealous_   
**Louis [17]:** _The subtlest when jealous_

**#**

Niall grabs two cushions from the couch and places them on the spot across the carpet where he's been sitting. He slumps his bum on top of them, the cushions serving as leverages, and then he proceeds playing Pokémon with Harry by the living room.

They're at the Styles' right now, mostly Harry's idea. Or rather an invitation for Niall to join him tonight, since Anne's gone off to her father's. Which,  _boring_. He's got no mum to bake cookies with, that's why.

About his second option, Gemma, she's not in their household any longer now if that is news yet, rooming with some of her mates in Birmingham ever since she's started Uni, so there's no sister to tease and pick on for Harry in the meantime.

Last on his list: is his brother Louis. Well, he's not home too, sadly. . . He's gone out with a very (like painfully) attractive bloke ages ago from now and yet they're still at some party at this point. They are currently Harry and Niall's subject of a conversation. Uh, actually, that bloke to be precised  _is_ their topic, but whatever.

Whatever.

But like, Harry isn't being biased here, okay? He even referred to the bloke who's-better-off-unknown as 'attractive' for heaven's sakes! Then again, it just so happened that it's some bloke  _whose face so gorgeous, eyelashes so long, jawline so prominently sharp_ , that is, unfortunately, with Louis Styles right now, so. So,  _God forbid_ if Harry isn't feeling any damn jealousy right now.

 _That bloke could be sweeping Louis off of his feet at this very moment! And Harry won't even be able to do anything about it!_ Because while his brother's out and having fun, on the other hand he's here at home in his kiddie pajamas eating sandwich, feeling queasy and bitter and--ugh.

Harry doesn't like being one sitting at home, no. . . not even a tiny bit. Not when Louis' out there being slowly seduced by someone Harry probably has no chance competing against with.

Grabbing another big bite on his sandwich, Harry holds his joystick upright and focuses on the game despite the thoughts of  _LouisLouisLouis_ haunting him. He frowns, eyebrows furrowing, and chews frantically like a daft kid without him actually noticing. And then he only snaps out of it when Niall calls on his name, pulling his attention.

"Hmm?" is what Harry lets out, blinking his gaze from the screen to Niall next to him.

"I asked, Harold, what are you so worried about with your brother being out with Mr. Attractive?" Niall repeats to say apparently.

Harry sighs, shrugging. "I dunno, Ni. . . I just. . ."

"You know what, don't even answer that," Niall says dismissively. "I understand anyway."

"You do?" Harry quips, raising an eyebrow, eyes impossibly wide and looking so innocent. Harry's got some mayo on his chin. It's ridiculous.

Niall looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows as if to say  _I just really know you that well._ "Yes," he says, "Because God, Harry, I don't even know just why, but Louis is yours, you said. Like you've said for almost a thousand times now actually, ever since we became mates, right. And apparently, you're a clingy arse, so. I'm guessing it's just you being your possessive self towards your brother."

Harry's full on blushing. Niall can read him. He hates that Niall can read him. Although he's thankful too.

Again, whatever. What matters right now is that yeah, Niall is totally being relevant about what he's just said and that yeah, fuck it, Louis' with Zayn freaking Malik.

(Why must Louis befriend that Vogue model-like bloke from section B anyway, really? Is he trying to make Harry cry? If so, he's doing an ace job of it, because Harry wants to,  _now_ , like he needs some good crying moment). Harry sighs again--long and suffering one at that.

Pausing their game, Harry faces Niall completely. And then he starts ranting. He tells him about Louis being the sweetest brother alive, ever, tells him about Louis' kindness, intelligence, brilliance and  _prettiness_. Okay, that last one slipped, but hurrah, Niall didn't seem to notice. Maybe because he agrees. . . Well, Harry only feels a little bit jealous then, if that.

As their little chat about Louis goes on for a bit more minutes, Louis himself all the sudden comes trudging in. Harry and Niall's heads snap up at that, and it's Harry who stands up firstly like instinct.

"Lou," he breathes out. He breathes Louis, what the fuck.

Louis stares at him from where he stands, which is by the entryway of the living room, averting his gaze from Niall and then back to Harry. He huffs, shaking his head, running his hands delicately through his soft hair. He's not saying anything.

After a beat, Louis leaves the scene and goes up the stairs, leaving a baffled Harry and confused Niall on his wake.  _Well, that was odd_ , Harry thinks, glancing down at Niall. Niall shrugs, is just as clueless as him.

Moments to it, Niall has finally left and gone home, which had given Harry no other choice but to call it a night as well. He's inside their room now, lying small on his bed. . . and Louis is also there, all hyped up and slurring, laughing at his own stories that he's telling Harry.

And right, okay, Louis is drunk. Harry thinks it's stupid, but he doesn't say.

Though really, Harry keeps asking himself, why did he look at Harry like that just now, as though Harry's being offensive just by hanging out with Niall?

Niall is Louis' mate, isn't the lad? In fact, Harry's known Niall through Louis, so really it's confusing him. Louis couldn't possibly be getting jealous over him and Niall now, could he?

Harry doesn't bring up that subject. He keeps quiet to himself and just lets Louis tell him about this party he's been in instead. And of course, there's the mention of that Zayn boy.

And if Harry's flinched and felt all jealous just by hearing Louis say Zayn's name and says he's so amazing and kind and cool, Harry chooses to just. . . swallow down his sorrows.

**#**

The next time Harry gets jealous with the same reason, the same boy known as Zayn godlike Malik, he's in their room and is reading some book called  _Sweet Valley High_ \--some story about love that Miss Teasdale had made him borrow from the school library from three days ago--with his feet propped up on the pillow.

It's a nice and serene afternoon as is, Anne is doing the laundry downstairs, Louis is home, and Gemma's just called earlier feeding them news about Uni (and spilling a few about her relationship with their childhood playmate, Ashton Irwin.)

Perfect day for Harry so far? Perhaps.

Or maybe not so, because as minutes pass like a blur, the inevitable occurs. Louis barges in through the door, with his giggles a bit high-pitched, his phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. He's chatting with someone on the other line then, quite loudly for that matter, pulling Harry's full attention just like that.

No clue yet as to what's the hype about, Harry attempts a conversation with Louis. "How's your day, Lou? We haven't spoken for like two days straight now, and--"

And he's cut off mid-sentence. "Wait, H-- I mean, princess, I'm just. . . Zayn, hold it, mate, let me just get to my drawer to get it, aight?" Paying Harry a glance, Louis mouths  _I'm on the phone, talk to you later, okay?_

And okay, Harry gets that. In fact, he gets that quite much it hurts. He's on the phone with Zayn Malik. Again. It's been that way ever since Louis' got to Year Twelve. Fuck.

So is it  _ZaynandLouis_ now, huh? Not  _HarryandLouis_ anymore? That hurts, alright? But Harry isn't gonna cry now. Big boys (girls) don't cry after all, said Fergie.

Besides, at least Louis still called him princess. . . and Zayn only got the pet name mate. Maybe that's good enough for now with Harry. Good enough for him to not confront Louis about his and Zayn's relationship just yet.

Harry is letting this one slide.

But fuck it, he drops the book he's enjoying on reading just now, and face-plants his face on the pillow. (They smell like him and Louis when they're making out on it. Ugh).

 _I miss Louis, I miss Louis, I miss Louis!_ He chants in his head. His heart hurts. Harry smudges his face on the pillow some more. . .

And if Harry groans against it after moments, he surely keeps it muffled and barely audible. He doesn't want Louis to get 'disturbed' from his chatting with Mr. Attractive.

**#**

Comes a different day, same shit happened. And if Harry's perfectly honest to himself (and just heck, the universe itself), he so damn hates it.

He was at school when the same thing occurred, right at the cafeteria of all places, and at the time, he was with Niall.

They were taking their break and Harry was discussing Shakespeare with Niall--who didn't seem to get half of it--when Harry's gaze suddenly flicked from Niall's aggressively chewing mouth to Louis William Styles from across the room.

Louis, he--well, he was encircled with such adjectives on that day. Soft, warm, lovely, and cuddly. . . He was swimming in Harry's lilac jumper that was why.

Sad thing was, he was dining with none other than Zayn himself.

Harry's heart picked up its pace. He couldn't handle it. The feeling of getting jealous and left out and  _owned_.

Without thinking, Harry bolted right up from where he was sat, nudging Niall's tray in his wake (one that earned himself a groan but boy did Harry not care,  _psh_ ), and stormed toward Louis and Zayn's table. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and he blurted, air-quoting the word  _always_ , "Louis and Harry, Harry and Louis, 'always', no more?"

For a second there, Harry thought he saw Louis' face go red. But then Zayn surprised Harry--he had surprised Harry so much that he forgot about Louis' flushed face--by standing up and offering a hand toward him. "Harry, right? You're Lou's brother--"

"Step," Louis had insisted, "step brother."  _Which was strange. . ._

"Right." Zayn chuckled, face crinkling on the sides. He was adorable. "Anyway. Hey, Harry, the  _step_ brother of Louis. I'm Zayn, by the way."

Harry's left eyebrow cocked up at that, finding it all odd. He glared at Zayn's offer hand on that moment, shifting his gaze from it and then to Louis' cowering posture, perched on the chair next to Zayn's. At the time, Harry didn't give two shits for Louis and his lowered gaze, all shy and guilty. Because on that moment, Harry's thoughts were directed only to the fact that that Zayn dude, who'd just introduced himself to Harry, had just called Louis  _Lou_. And see, that's Harry nickname for Louis. Anne, Gemma and Niall too, only them! It indicates that they're Louis' first priorities, just like how Louis is too when it comes to them. Now if Zayn addressed Louis with that nickname, then. . . he might be really close to Louis now.

Harry decided he did not like that at all. Not at all.

Inhaling sharply, Harry took Zayn's hand. He still shook it, being the normally polite lad he was, and said, referring to Zayn's question earlier, "The one and only, yes. Hi, Zayn."

Zayn nodded, beaming, and God, if Harry thought he was 'attractive' days prior to then, that time, with him that close to him, Harry admittedly had felt nothing but small. Zayn was not just attractive. He was beautiful. Gorgeous. . .

"Nice to finally meet you," said Zayn, all white pearls, long delicate eyelashes, and bright chocolate eyes. Harry's heart shattered into tiny pieces.

At that point on, Louis still wouldn't look at him.

And again at that point, Harry knew he'd already lost the battle. Nevertheless though, Harry still mumbled out, "Likewise," and then in a minute, he was gone.

**_#_ **

To distract himself from that painful encounter back in the cafeteria, Harry comes along with Niall and they go to the mall. They play arcades, buy snacks on the walk, and talk about Niall and his unhealthy obsession over Barbara Palvin. Harry's grateful for it. He's forgotten about Louis' guilty look from earlier.

At seven in the evening, Harry tells Niall he has to go home. He's not feeling well. Niall walks him to his house then, and he thanks Niall for that.

Jogging up the stairs after he's kissed Anne from the kitchen, Harry goes straight to his and Louis' shack, only to get disappointed. Again, for the last time.

Louis' with Zayn in their room and they're in Louis' bed, talking quietly. Harry may or may not have heaved out a sigh of relief on that one--he's a bit glad that they weren't snogging when he walks in on them.

Immediately, Louis looks at Harry. And they just stare at each other for a while, no one daring to talk.

Tearing his piercing gaze away from Louis, Harry rolls his eyes and opts to ignore him. He toes his shoes off, flops on his bed as he tucks himself in, and wills himself to just sleep,  _sleep, Harry, sleep!_ , (and perhaps never wake up again). He's pathetic.

Hearing Louis sigh, Harry follows that up with his own. Minutely though, he also then starts hearing Zayn and Louis resuming from talking quietly to themselves. By the time Harry hears Louis say  _don't mind, Harry, he's just being immature again_ , that's when Harry shoots up from his bed to be mad at Louis, yell at him and say he's a  _knob_.

"You--!" He stops himself in an instant, having seen Zayn handing Louis an artificial flower.

"Perrie," Zayn says, gaze locked with Louis'. "Will you kindly accept this flower and perhaps go out with me?"

Louis flutters his eyelashes ridiculously, attempting flamboyancy. "Oh, Zayn, sure," he says in some high-pitched voice, trying and failing  _terribly,_ mocking a girl's.

Zayn laughs at that, cheeks tinting of nothing but reds and pinks. He really is gorgeous, Harry thinks absently as he watches all the questionable commotions.

And like, what's going on? Who's Perrie?

Louis taps Zayn's shoulder. "You're good to go now, mate. You're a man who's ready to sweep a lady's feet off of a cow's shit land. I'm sure Perrie will say yes to you. I mean, with that face? I'd say, who the fuck wouldn't?" For a moment there, Harry catches Louis eyeing him sideways, is even smirking now at him. All smug and blithe. What could that mean?

Zayn sighs. "Hopefully, Lou. I really like her."

And oh.  _Oh_ , Harry thinks. He gets it now.  _Shit_.

Not having stopped himself, Harry suddenly sneezes from where he stands. And Louis is right in front of him within a second flat, cupping his face gently yet firmly and studying him. He feels his forehead. "Fuck," Louis curses, "you're so hot, what the fuck? You've caught a bug, babe."

Zayn frowns from behind Louis, looking genuinely worried just like Louis himself. "Let him take meds right away, Lou. You don't want your princess getting worse."

Harry might not be breathing anymore at this point. What did Zayn just say? Does this mean. . . Zayn is aware of him and Louis?

What's going on?

"What's going on?" Harry asks, feeling hot all over all the sudden, especially now that Louis' attention is all on him again, he finally knows Zayn is after all straight and that they aren't boyfriends, and that of course Louis is still a hundred percent Harry's.

 _LouisandHarry_ , always, still. Hell yes.

"Well, let's just say that. . . I might've slipped one day to Zayn about our shenanigans, Haz," Louis says, his cheeks a beautiful shade of red.

Zayn snorts. "One day," he scoffs, "right."

Louis turns his head to glare at Zayn. Harry gets even more confused. "Shut up, Zayn."

Zayn laughs as he shakes his head. "Oh, Lou, you can't make me." Looking at Harry, Zayn reveals Louis' darkest secrets, "This mate of mine, Harry, he always talks about you. Nonstop! That even sometimes, I needed to bring up some random topic just to shut him up."

"Zayn, dude," Louis admonishes, eyes wide. "Fuck off."

Zayn carries on, "It's always, oh, Harry this, Harry that. My princess this, my princess that. Harry looks cute today, Harry laughed at my joke at breakfast. Harry smiled at me, Harry is with  _Niall_ again and I'm  _jealous_ \--"

"Enough!" Louis finally shrieks out, covering Zayn's mouth. His face is truly bloody red now. Harry couldn't help his jaw-breaking grin, his green eyes glassy and bright. "You twat," Louis bites. "What if I tell Perrie myself that you wank on her singing voice every night, you git?"

Zayn doesn't seem fazed with that threat, only laughing out loud some more. Louis eventually gives up, just lunging himself over to Harry and burying his nose at the crook of his neck--something he does when wanting to hide his flushed and embarrassed face. Harry of course loves it.

In fact, he loves it too much he may be having a little twitch right on his crotch right now.

And you know what? Whatever. It's--whatever. Even if Harry's just clearly made an arse of himself for making false speculations about Zayn and Louis' real relationship, he supposes nothing really is perfect in this world. Instead of acknowledging his wrongs, he purposefully ignores them and just focuses on the fact that Louis is absolutely his.

A million and one percent his.

Harry couldn't be happier.

(Also, Zayn is cool. He has no problems with the bloke. He likes Zayn).

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> QUESTION OF THE CHAPTER: Which do you ship more with Zayn? Gigi, Perrie, Liam or Niall, and why?
> 
> Hahahahahaha! I myself ship Zayn with Louis, but of course you're not allowed to pick that because that wasn't included in the options. Zouis all the way! Wahaha.


	7. 💗 harry and louis: at 16 and 18 💗

**Harry [16]:** _Never going to ever let go_   
**Louis [18]:** _Doing what he thinks is right_

**_#_ **

Summer is approaching, and it's almost the end of school year, which means, it's the last game of footie match now at Louis and Harry's high school as well.

Just like in each school Louis' ever attended to, he always is a participant in football--always a player of the said sport--and just like the usual, becoming the captain at each premise.

Now being a captain of footie, normally of course, it has its own perks and everything, and usually, they have their own rivals.

Well, Louis' just happened to be Liam James Payne, a senior from section C, the captain of his team's rival as well. Sounded quite normal? Perhaps. But wait, that wasn't just it. The worst part is actually the fact that Liam James Payne is also, unluckily, one of Harry Styles' closest friends.

Close friends as in Harry on a casual basis invites Liam in for a telly time, they hang out at the Styles' residence every once in a while, with Liam even eating dinner there when he's stayed quite long enough that Anne offers he stayed for her specialties, and then often makes awkward glances with Louis in the duration of it all.

Louis hates it more than he should. He thinks Harry can do better. For one, Niall with Harry makes Louis jealous, because Harry mostly is pink-cheeked when he laughs too much to Niall's lame jokes, and secondly, Liam with Harry is disturbing, what with Liam cares for Harry too much, that this boy never lets Harry execute reckless stuff.

And really, just like that of Justin Bieber's song;  _that should be Louis_ , making Harry laugh, causing him those pink cheeks and dimples and doe eyes; and  _that should be Louis_ , caring way too much for his baby brother, to the point of him, tying Harry up in some place where not even a single needle lies, which will cost him not only blood but also pain.

Those should be Louis. Why can't Harry just stick to him instead?

What's even worse is, Louis' almost out of their school, is off to University now to start college and such. How is he supposed to look out for his brother now if that's the case? Louis' hopeless.

On the contrary, the mentioned last match of footie is today. Right now.

Jogging towards and inside the field, Louis looks around him, among the crowds, the bleachers, trying to spot where his brother is. On the third row, probably on the fifth slot, he finally sees Harry--wearing some red shirt,  _L. Styles_  on the front of it and some black paintings on each his cheek--and he's waving and grinning at his direction. Louis tries to make out if it is him Harry is waving at, just to make sure, and--oh, right, it's him.

Smiling big (in relief that it  _is_ him after all), Louis waves back. "Hey, babe," Louis whispers, words definitely only heard by him, what with the entire school field is packed with noisy students from Year Fives to Sixth Forms.

"Oi! Harold!" Someone suddenly chirps from behind Louis. "You came to watch me!"

As though some car has loudly screeched into such an aggressive halt, Louis freezes on his spot, waving hand stopping and hanging in mid-air, eyes widening in embarrassment. And then realization hits him. Harry is waving at Liam James Payne--who is right behind him--and  _not_ at himself.

Louis looks at Harry from afar again. And this time, the boy is shouting his name. Enthusiastic, grinning madly, waving happily. "Louis! Lou! Go, Lou!"

And not to be immature or what, but. Instead of appreciating it all the same, Louis asks himself like the daft boy he is.

_I come at second now, is that it?_

Because it hurts. This is such a big day for him, and Harry is here, the biggest deal in his life. But he's acknowledging that Liam James Payne before anything else.  _Anyone else._

Louis sucks it in. He sucks it in.

Managing a small smile, again, Louis waves back at Harry, but rather belated now this second time around, feeling his stomach churning in despair.

Louis has a feeling this won't become a very good day for him after all, even when Harry's cooked him breakfast this morning and told him he loves him. . .

Well, Louis' hoping it won't be.

He's hoping he isn't such a selfish jealous brat.

**_#_ **

A while later, after thinking that maybe, just maybe, if Louis won against Liam's team in this last footie match of the year he would finally get all of Harry's attention, Louis is proven wrong the second he turns.

Once his mates have put him down after they've cheered his name as he's scored a goal for last, Louis catches Harry and Liam hugging intimately by the railings of the bleachers. Like, Harry's even rubbing Liam's back, and in return Liam's snuggling in his neck. . .

For the moment there, Louis imagines he's Liam and he was the one being hugged so tight and careful by Harry Edward Styles like that instead.

But no. That's just an illusion, just an imagination. A fantasy.

And Louis really, really needs to get out of here now before he does something stupid, like maybe pick a fight with Payne. Or steal Harry away and yell at his face, _I own you!_

He shouldn't. That makes him a toxic jealous prick.

Louis immediately runs. He runs, because he's hurting, getting jealous, and feeling left out. And he realizes, the part where his team won will probably never overshadow the fact he just lost the most important person in his life.

**_#_ **

Zayn together with Perrie, drives Louis back home.

They keep reassuring him that Harry might've only run over to Liam first to console him because he lost the match. Louis wants to believe that. So badly. So, so badly. But it's hard.

They say that maybe Harry wasn't able to get to him fast enough, since Louis mostly had been surrounded by so much cheering students after all. They have a point. And maybe Louis trusts Zayn's words like that. But he supposes now isn't just a good time to discuss it. For one, Louis' too knackered and needs rest, and two, Harry's actions ever since he and Liam start hanging out, have been rendering him hopeless on and on. He's getting tired of it. His heart getting stomped on. . .

Zayn seems to understand, of course he does. He's seen Louis cried over Harry countless time. Get himself drunk because of him. Even Perrie.

Louis is just so done. Been so toxic loving someone that'll never be his. He needs some rest. Rest is good.

**_#_ **

Stepping in their home, Louis gets instantly greeted by Anne's warm hug, peppering him with lip-smacking kisses on his cheeks, forehead, top of the head and temples, each with such congratulatory cheer, appraisal, and wow.

Gemma on the other hand, wolf-whistles and says she's so proud of him via Skype from their desktop computer, one that Anne's mystery man, Robin, has bought for them, all plush and brand-new in display by their living room. Louis only smiles at them, fondly, face coated with mixture of sweat and Anne's red lipstick, jersey filled with grass strands and dirt.

He looks so beat. But mostly, heartbroken.

After all the congratulating and compliments, Anne shoos him so he can shower and rest. He complies, hiding his pained mood, his mind still wandering over the fact Harry isn't home yet. He wonders where must be his baby brother is right now, whether if he's still with Liam or maybe after all looking for Louis.

He hopes it's the second one.

And maybe it is.

Because minutes later, Harry's barging in inside their room. "Lou?" he calls, voice cautious, hesitancy coating its entirety. It's made Louis' hairs stand on their ends momentarily.

He's in the shower, and despite the spray is switched on, creating noise and running, he still can hear Harry coming in further, once again calling for his name. Carrying on showering, Louis ignores the pang on his chest as he refrains from acknowledging Harry. He just continually washes his body with his and Harry's shared soap. A cherry scented one, Harry's pick. And really, it's always all about Harry, innit?

When he's done in the loo, he dries himself with his beaten towel, ruffles his wet fringe and steps out to their room. Harry is there, he sees, sitting on his bed, looking at him with a soft smile on his face.

And Louis finally snaps, can't really handle that kind of smile. "What do you want?" he asks, voice low--he isn't actually being snippy--but he is scarily calm and cold, that Harry blinks rapidly at him, showing such mild confusion.

"I don't know, Lou, you tell me," is Harry's reply to his cold tone, "you were the one who left me all alone in the bleachers, weren't you? I was looking for you, but you have gone."

Louis purses his lips into a thin line, just gazing fiercely at Harry on his bed--who's looking so agitated and confused, frustrated--his mind having another flashback of Harry and Liam's intimate hug all from earlier. He shakes his head stiffly, blowing off a sigh. He can neither look at Harry nor deal with him right now.

"I was tired," is all Louis feeds Harry, not gonna admit for one millisecond he's actually jealous of Liam all this time, or really, every fucking time, "so I let Zayn drive me home."

Harry stands up from Louis' bed, muses, " _Wow_ ," while his heating gaze is still obviously burning on Louis' distant self, walking toward his own bed and shaking his head. "So much for me coming to your game for full support, huh, Lou. I even wore your jersey to show you and everyone how much I idolize you." Harry's being snappy, that much is obvious to Louis, considering he's using a tone of sarcasm at him and all, but Louis won't get angry now. . . not ever. Not a million fights could make him hate Harry after all. Sitting down on his bed, Harry sardonically says, "Thank you for your appreciation, Lou. Wow. It's truly felt, I swear. I can totally hear you saying your thank-you."

Louis' eye twitches at that last bit. And no. No, he's  _not_ snapping-- _not gonna argue with Harry._

Gathering all his might and strength and temperance level, he suppresses a strangled noise and just ends up blowing off a sigh.  _Nope, not today_ , Louis tells himself again, he's not going to confront Harry and give in.

"Thank you then," Louis says instead, voice still cold as ice, "I guess." And then he drops his towel from around his waist and starts wearing some clothes on, not bothering to cover up his bum knowing Harry's watching him, and afterwards flops himself on his bed.

And if Louis starts to cry quietly on his own because of so much pain he's been enduring all day--or really, since Harry's become distant and snappy to him unlike before when he was yet his precious little princess--he makes sure that Harry won't know.

(And fuck it, call Louis dramatic if you want, but he loves Harry more than anything in this world, so sue him if it affects him this much).

**_#_ **

By the end of the month May, Louis' finally done with his clearances and affirmations, has gotten his certificate of Good Moral as well as his GCSEs results, and is now packing his stuff for Uni.

He'll be leaving Holmes Chapel within two days for a bigger city that is London, meaning a bigger opportunity, night parties, cute boys, new friends--new him, new everything--and lastly, a life away from Harry.  _So he can distant himself away from Harry_ , Louis keeps to himself, trying not to break, trying not to frown. He can do this, he knows he can.

Harry will be left on his own here at their mum's, everyone knows that since he's still on his way to Year Twelve next school year, and Louis is in fact two years ahead of him.

Well, Harry isn't exactly okay with it. Of course he's not. But ever since that latest fight Louis and he had, Louis' never been more determined to be on-board with this 'moving out' plan and applying for Universities in London, instead of the colleges they have within the town. Anything for moving on, just that, that this is all about for Louis, really.

Anything Louis can do that's to do with avoiding Harry and forgetting him completely--about him, his love for him--and to save himself from becoming completely insane. . . Like, just to remind him how they're really brothers and brothers weren't supposed to become lovers. And that all that concerns Louis and his feelings for Harry have to stop.

And maybe that's a bit unfair of Louis--just suddenly giving up on this thing he and Harry have built up to themselves. Thus Harry has come up with a plan to win him back, to somehow change his mind on this unrequited love that they have, and to have Louis keep on loving him and never giving up. Even if he'd still move out. Harry decides for talking it out with Louis, make him cave in.

If he can.

Following Louis around their room like a lost puppy, Harry is set to make Louis melt into him again, in his arms, make Louis talk to him again in the way he used to, and to make Louis realize what he'll miss when he's gone.

"I love you, Lou," Harry says, voice soft, fond and loving, is not really expecting a reply from Louis or anything. "I hope you have so much fun in London. Gain new friends."

And of course, Louis doesn't acknowledge him. He just carries on packing, walking in and out of the loo for his toiletries.

Harry isn't giving up though, still following him wherever he goes inside their room. "I hope you find happiness there, Lou. I hope you'd be happy every day for when you wake up. Even if I'm not there to make you breakfast. Pancakes with honey syrup, your favorite."

Going toward his drawers, Louis takes out his pajama collection, his socks collection too, and packs them. He's still not looking at Harry, but he's feeling nostalgic already, thinking about Harry's golden pancakes, pastas and steaks. Louis will miss those. But mostly he'll miss Harry. . . so much.

Sitting on his bed, watching Louis pack his pajamas and couple of jumpers, Harry continues, "I hope you meet a. . . boy there as well, Lou." Harry notices Louis' hand twitch at his words, but he carries on, "A boy that would make you laugh and smile and giggle, Lou. That one. Some boy that would make your face crinkle in so much laughter. . . like the way I used to make you do."

Sighing, Louis finally speaks, his voice very soft, "Harry. . . stop it."

Harry's heart crawls up from his chest to his throat. Louis looks at him, making him feel warm and nervous and more in love from his insides. Louis looks so beautiful it's actually hurting Harry now. Just realizing that this beautiful boy in front of him--his love, his everything, his forever, his babe--is about to leave now is killing Harry fast. He's about to forget what they have now, about to leave him now. . . This house, this room where they grew up together.  _Him_.

Louis is leaving. Leaving him.

Blinking back the tears that are now threatening to spill from his eyes, Harry swallows hard and goes on, his voice quivering and raspier now, a sign that he's feeling so deflated and vulnerable, downtrodden and defeated. Louis is leaving him.  _Shit_.

"Shit, Lou, I hope you. . . I hope you meet some good lad there. I hope he will love you more than I do--more than I love you.  _Lou_ , I love you so much. . . Don't forget about us, yeah?" Harry's first tear falls. And Louis stops what he's doing, his gaze locked on his lap, can't seem to look over at Harry. Afraid he might break, doing just that.

Croaking out his words, Harry sniffs to go that by, can't help the flooding sadness within him anymore, "I hope you meet some boy that's prettier than me, Lou. I know you like pretty boys--"

"But no one's ever prettier than you, Haz," Louis whispers, cutting Harry off. Breath hitching against his painful throat, Harry blinks and lets more fat tears leave his eyes, rolling down his pink cheeks. Looking up from his lap, Louis faces Harry for the very first time in hours today.

"I love you, Louis freaking Styles," Harry tells him, very solemnly, very seriously, his green eyes shining with nothing but sad tears and sincerity. He keeps on biting his lips. Those red plump  _wobbling_ lips. "Please. . . just. I love you."

And that is it for Louis. Within a blink of an eye, he all at once drops everything he's been doing and pads across the room. He sees Harry visibly gasp at his rushed frantic movements, and that just breaks him even more.  _He's clearly ignored Harry too much. Too much!_  He quickly goes toward Harry by his bed then, and, just what he's been dying to do all week, surges down and presses his lips against Harry's owns, hard. Louis kisses Harry hard. Harry melts into the kiss in an instant, closing his eyes, another batch of tears rolling down from them, and lets Louis lay him down.

Parting for a short while, Louis looks at Harry submissively panting underneath him, all flushed cheeks and soft curls, red lips swollen from the kiss. . . soft sad gaze intensely locked on Louis' owns, making Louis hot all over.

"I love you so much, H. I really thought I could, baby, but I suppose I couldn't. I've been such a fool for even considering, god. It's you and I forever. 'Can never replace you. . ."

Harry blinks dazedly up to him, licking his lips. "Kiss me again, Lou. I want you to. . . kiss me again. Kiss me like I'm your boyfriend, kiss me like you'd marry me someday. Kiss me because you'll miss this--miss my mouth--when you've gone."

Louis does.

With his elbows on each side of Harry, supporting his weight on top of the younger boy, Louis kisses Harry like there's no tomorrow.

He kisses him fiercely for the sake of them both, savoring his sweet mouth, kissing him like he owns the whole of Harry Edward Styles.

Louis kisses him like they're boyfriends. He kisses Harry like he's dying tonight--like it's the end of the world.

Pulling away, Harry smiles at him, curls disarray, from cheeks to chest all flushed rosy and red. Louis smiles back, gaze heavy lidded, lips red and plush and worn out, tasting any and all but  _HarryHarryHarry_.

As silence drapes all over them, the entire room itself, Louis in a minute opts to break it. "I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Did you know that?" Harry licks his lips at the information, getting that by touch, Louis meant sex. They've never really talked about it, but now that Louis has brought it up, Harry's suddenly feeling horny and frustrated. . . "I've been dreaming of having awesome sex with you. Wanna. . ." Louis trails off, swallowing.

"You wanna?" Harry murmurs encouragingly, blinking softly and innocently.

Louis takes in a breath. And then finally he admits, "Wanna fuck you so hard your mind would blow. Fuck you so hard I'd claim all of you and you'd be completely, wholly mine."

He doesn't know why, but Harry sighs in relief at hearing that. "Fuck me then, Lou, I don't care--," he then tries to say, but Louis cuts him off, shaking his head.

"But I don't want yet though, princess. Because I want it to happen at the right time, in the right place. I want you to be ready when it's finally happening. I want you to be sure and ready for it."

Harry bites on his lip, stares intensely on Louis' pair of dark gaze, and speaks, voice barely audible, raspy and syrupy slow, "I'd love that then, Lou. I can wait. I'll wait for when we're both ready. I know you'd make it special."

Louis nods, smiling fondly down at him. "Very much special, yes."

"It's settled then," Harry whispers, smile turning into a grin, his dimples popping out. "So. . . what are you waiting for, Lou?"

Louis chuckles softly, sides of his face crinkling adorably--something Harry himself alone can only do. "What is it?"

Harry rolls his eyes playfully, keeping his giving off grin. "Oh, just come here now and kiss me, you fool."

And Louis does, because fuck. He's so damn in love with Harry fucking Styles that he can't contain it. He's so damn in love with his baby brother Harry and he'll surely miss him so fucking much when he's gone to London.

Louis will miss his Harry, his princess, so, so much.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter: (For the Larry shippers only) Why do you ship Larry? Hmmmm ;-)


	8. 💗 harry and louis: at 20 and 22 💗

**Harry [20]:** _The one to wait no matter how long_   
**Louis [22]:** _The one to brave no matter how wrong_

**#**

It's Louis' fourth year now taking the course Doctoral, is basically familiar with the pros and cons from where he lives now, which is just around London, since he's already been here for the best of four years. But that's not really an option for him though, having mentioned that--going around town at such time when he wants to, just whenever he wants to--because studying on how to become a good doctor someday is apparently a lot of work, resulting in everything being a hassle for Louis and his solitary life.

Like for someone who lives on their own with just a flat mate named Stan, as well as his college life as a student who studies to someday become a life saver. So it sure is something that has to do with Louis' schedule being so, so damn hectic. The part where he can't just slack.

Even when Harry's finally moved out their childhood home too, only for about two years now back from when he's graduated himself too, and is residing somewhere in London now as well, still, Louis can't seem to make up some time for Harry and him. They text, sure, they call each other up, they've met a few times in person for the last two years Harry's within the town, but that had been it.

Harry is a bit sad about it, of course he is. He misses Louis. But he understands nonetheless, very considerate about his brother's Doctoral course and the hectic coursework that goes with it, so Louis is. . . relieved. He's very much relieved.

Besides, he and Harry are matured now--most especially by their way of thinking--which in result, they talk things out just fine, are not arguing about simple things anymore, unlike when they were teens.

Speaking of which; right, of course, Harry and Louis are right adults now. They aren't kids anymore, and thus that applies to their personalities that now are, as well, have changed. They've changed. Louis can vibe it with how Harry is now when they talk via mobile, when they text too, and when Harry's being caring and sensible about stuff that concerns Gemma, Anne and Louis himself.

Harry's maturity is noticeable. And it's the same with Louis--Harry can tell Louis isn't the always jealous type now, because when he mentioned he now gained quite a number of people he can call friends such as Cara, Sophia, Nina and his flat mate, Ed, Louis never showed any signs of being left out.

Harry is only a bit nostalgic about Louis' territorial attitude, that selfish-when-it-came-to-him persona, back when they were kids and young and experimental about love.

The first time they met again after Louis' departure years back, was when Harry graduated in high school. Louis went home to celebrate with their family, ate dinner, and he and Harry had oral sex for the very first time.

Harry blew Louis in their childhood bedroom, and of course, Louis returned the favor.

On a different note, that was the last they touched each other, specifically in flesh, because when they call each other occasionally, text each other every day, and Skype every once in a while, they did naughty things and got off that way.

They're both seemingly studying overseas, basically, and it's mostly because of Louis' hectic days and schedule. He's almost there, is the thing, almost winning over life, his very own game, so Harry respected that and had been all-out willing to wait until they can finally have sex. What mattered then was Louis being on his way of becoming a fucking doctor.

Harry couldn't be more proud of his older brother.

To be fair though, they're doing something about it too, about meeting up, but every time they're about to meet up then, something will suddenly occur and they'd have to postpone. And it's happened for about eight times now, just within those two years that Harry's been in London (for studying his dream course, Photography, in which he's ace at by the way), so eventually, they gave up, traumatized, saying that maybe they'll just meet up on Holidays.

Time flies fast, see, especially when you're busy and always occupied. Louis' fine with that, is tired to argue, and so is Harry. It's basically just to save themselves from such unending trouble.

They've really matured now, haven't they. Anne would've been so proud if she was here in London and not with her fiancé, Robin. Although that's a good thing too--Louis, Gemma and Harry wouldn't have wanted it the other way around.

**_#_ **

It's the middle of the night and Louis' had his cheek planted against the cool desk in front of him, gaze locked on his phone before him, just pointedly waiting for its screen to light up and indicate a text message.

He's in the hospital where his Uni's assigned him as a trainee, though much to his dismay, he's been appointed to have the graveyard shift, that's why even if he's deadbeat now, sleepy and has been yawning for over a thousand times, he's still under regulated working time and is, yes, working.

His eyes flick to his exposed right arm, something he only does (exposing his arm) under the hospital premises when it's around 3-4 am, meaning no souls lurking around that much anymore, and admires the collection of tattoos he's gathered there, each having their own meaning, some complimenting Harry's owns. Louis may just have his favorite amongst them, but he's not going to admit that yet. Not when he's seen Harry's in person, so he can pinpoint personally.

Lighting up, the screen of his iPhone, Louis languidly reaches for it as he suppresses a fond smile.

**_Just got home, Lou! So pumped. The girls gave me pills for my head though, so it's cool, I guess. Anyway, Ed here has his significant other staying over night. Nina, the one I told you about! She's nice, great voice, the both of them. I'll feel alone again. Huhu. What about you, my Lewis? xxx_ **

Retrieving his head from the desk, Louis replies to Harry's text, saying the usual. How he's so tired and sleepy now, but still on his shift, just trying not to doze off. He also tells Harry he should rest, since he's probably hammered. And yes, this is him and Harry every day, every night--texting each other everything they're doing, nonsensical, important or whatnot. Just to keep each other close, always.

They're alright with it nowadays though, this sort of phase, even if at first they weren't. Harry had been so cross about it, but after Louis showed him his schedule file, it'd worn off on Harry eventually.

As Louis sends his reply, he lowers his phone down and under the desk, sensing someone coming. Business duty. Correct with his speculation, a man in white, Dr. Thomas Howell, approaches Louis' desk and offers him a reserved smile. Louis nods and smiles at him as well. To show respect and acknowledgment.

"You're off, lad," Dr. Howell begins to say, earning a curt nod from Louis, "Two days break for you. Come back on Wednesday for evaluation and schedule change."

Louis' eyes might have not gone wide at the overwhelming information, but butterflies erupted in his stomach anyway. He refrains, tries hard not to show how much happy he is on hearing this very wonderful news. Fuck.

"Okay, Doc, thank you," is all he lets himself say, and then Dr. Howell's gone.

Scrambling with his shaking hands, Louis doesn't waste any more time and calls Harry right away. And he needn't to wait for Harry to pick up no more, because just after the first ring, he does. "Lou?" he breathes out.

Louis feels warm all over in an instant, just having heard his one and only boy's voice, even if it's just through the phone. "Hey, H," Louis whispers, a smile etched on his face. He can't help it. "Are you free tomorrow?"

There's a pause on Harry's end, as though Harry's doing calculations in his head. After a beat, his deep voice comes back, "Yeah, I am. Why?"

Louis bites on his lip, his cheeks heating up in so much giddiness and excitement. "Come see me."

And the tone on Harry's voice instantaneously changes, suddenly sounding beaming, "You're being serious?"

"Yes, H," Louis says, chuckling.

There's this sound of muffled squealing on Harry's end of the line, like he's covering his squeals against some massive pillows from where he lies, before he responds to Louis again. "Okay. I mean, I--yeah, Lou. Of course. I-," he lets out a breathy laugh, like he's at the verge of crying, not because he's devastated but rather the opposite of it, "-God, I've waited for this for so long! I mean, I hope this won't get postponed again, Lou. I don't think I can, like, take it for the hundredth time anymore-"

"No, Haz, I promise you," Louis cuts through right away, shaking his head even if technically, Harry can't see him, "This time it's gonna happen. We'll finally see each other. I have two days of break from work and everything, see, even school assignments and curriculum, so this is it."

Like he can actually feel or see Harry smiling so big and wide and  _fonding_ , Louis finds it contagious in his own way, making him smile big, wide and fondly himself. "Okay, Lou," Harry whispers from the other line, "Okay. Just...text me the details, I guess. I'll let you go now, so you can rest. Um, big day tomorrow, yes please. . ."

Louis closes his eyes with a smile on his face, cheeks impossibly rosy pink, his hold on his phone by his ear getting tighter and firmer by the second, as though his phone is Harry and that he refuses on just letting it slip away. "Yes, baby. You too, yeah? Take a rest, drink plenty of water for your head, and then tomorrow, I'll finally see you again."

And just like the usual, Harry takes his advice, and before they know it, they're both hanging up.

 _Big day tomorrow_ , Louis thinks.

**_#_ **

Come the next day, Louis dresses his best for Harry--no questions, no hesitations--just pulling off his best shirt and tightest jeans, all because Harry is the most important thing in his life and that he wants him impressed. Louis' just--he's so totally in love with his brother, and he's not gonna deny that anymore.

Stan gives him a look once he steps out of his room, wearing his black shirt  _Love Will Tear Us Apart_ and then some black skinnies to go that by, making his bum stand out and his thighs bulge. Stan tells him he looks extremely hot in so many ways, but no homo. Louis can't help laugh at that.

Knowing already where Louis is going, Stan wolf-whistles and makes a show of saluting him, as though he's wishing him good luck. Louis smiles then, is already feeling fond of all this, of Harry, of their proper unity after four straight years.

Checking the time on his phone, Louis grabs his keys from the bowl, double-checks if his wallet is in his pocket, and then wears his blue Adidas from nearby the door, not bothering for a pair of socks.

"'M leaving," he tells Stan who's at the living room, gripping the doorknob.

"Good luck, mate. If you ever need the flat to yourselves later, just send me a text, yeah? I could just spend the night at Nick's."

Louis blushes as he thinks about that,  _needing the flat to himself and Harry_. For what? A shag? Their first ever shag?

Shaking his head, distracted, Louis sheepishly smiles at Stan. "Will do. Thanks, man." And then he's out the door, jogging away and out the streets to go to the town's most spacious library. It's where he told Harry they should meet up, to which Harry's agreed on, so now they are. Louis hopes he's not late.

Entering the library itself, Louis looks around the quiet place, inhales the scent of books from vintage to new arrivals, trying to spot a mop of soft and bouncy curls, some milky white boy in some jumper perhaps, like the usual outfit Louis knows Harry would wear for such a casual meeting. Or maybe those bright green Bambi eyes that looks so young and naïve, those that might've been eyeing him from where he's standing right at the moment, knowing Harry would show up early, because he was such a kid, such a _boy scout_ , apparently.

Considering Louis can't see those mentioned traits, he all but soon finds himself thinking that maybe he's arrived earlier than Harry.

Louis shakes his head and keeps his smug grin. Maybe Harry's late. That adorable young sod.

Opting for killing time while waiting for Harry to arrive, Louis pads across the carpeted library hall and goes pointedly towards the comics section. He automatically remembers Zayn just seeing the first, probably around thirty-five, comics spines aligned neatly on the entertainment shelf.

Zayn's once told him he has now graduated from taking up some Animation course somewhere in Bradford, where Zayn's parents have moved in that last, last Fall. Louis feels happy and proud of his best mate, wishing they could somehow arrange something and then meet again some time this Winter, before his birthday could come.

And, see. . . he misses everyone at home. Niall, Perrie, Barbara--God, even Liam--and of course, their old house that now, most definitely, is being lived in by a new family, granted Anne's sold it two years ago after Harry's moved out for Uni like him and Gemma, and Robin's proposed to her, asking her to live with him in Manchester instead.

So there's that. Everything's changed. Louis feels like crying just thinking about it, reminiscing the childhood he's had.

He smiles though, shutting his eyes and inhaling sharply, something he needs--has to suppress--just so his tears would cut the crap. This isn't the right time and place for such.

Feeling a warm pair of arms snaking around his waist out the sudden, taking him by full and utter surprise, Louis' eyes go wide as he manages a small squeaking noise coming out from his fast drying throat, foggy mind instantly going through the fact that someone's hugging him from behind, their chin tucked against his shoulder. And then, "You're late. 'Been watching you from afar," some deep and raspy voice whispers in his ear, hot breath tickling the skin along his neck.

"H-Harry," Louis stammers, hot blood coming up to his face, feeling himself burning literally at how seductive and obscene Harry has sounded. But wait. Harry's voice changed. It's changed? It's become deeper and raspier, and--Louis turns around and lets himself face Harry completely, and--oh, fuck.

Holy fuck.

"Hi," Harry says, smiling lopsidedly, dimples dipping at each his rosy tan cheeks.

Rosy tan. Harry's gone tan. Fuck.

"H-hey," Louis manages, the sound of his voice strangely unfamiliar to his own ears all the sudden. What's happening to him? What's happened to Harry? What's happened to his. . . his Bambi-eyed Harold with the soft curls, wide cheeky smile, the one who was  _smaller_ than him by an inch, milky white-skinned, and all jumpers, hoodies, and sweats?

This. This person standing in front of Louis right now is nothing but...  _gorgeous_. All flushed cheeks, lips plump magenta, long curls at shoulder length, rosy tanned skin, hips wider and thighs thick, and. . . fuck. Instead of cute and adorable, young and lanky, this person is obscenely hot, seductive, all grown up now, and is perfectly flamboyant at the edges. Totally unlike those last two years ago when he was soft and cuddly and, just to put it simply, a cute bundle of admirable.

Harry's still admirable, sure, but he's rather damn sinful now than ever. If Louis' expected just now for him to wear some cozy jumper, sweats and a pair of silly shoes, well, now... hasn't he just made a fool out of himself, because it's entirely different than those.

Harry's wearing some black sheer shirt instead, one that is showing some of his tattoos on his chest (i.e. some sparrows and  _17BLACK_ ), as well as one that's fitted to his hourglass shaped body and seemingly endless torso, some impossibly tight ripped skinny jeans too, and then a pair of golden boots. And God, what's that on Harry's head that's pushing his curly fringe back? Headscarf or just a piece of fabric? Regardless, Harry's the epitome of sex, so different from what Louis' last seen of him.

Louis never thought a 20-year old Harry Styles would become this sinfully, painfully, and pathetically edible.

And yes, holy fuck, yes, Louis' fucked. Totally fucked.

"Wow," Harry says after a while, racking Louis up and down, the look in his dilated yet heavy lidded eyes making Louis feel rather naked even when he's not. "You've changed, Lou. A lot. And in a good, good. . . good way. Certainly in a good way."

Louis laughs, slyly, thinking  _what the hell, is this a joke, you're the one who's entirely changed you dimwit, what even are you talking about_. Louis just couldn't help himself to think it, sue him. Not when Harry's giving him a semi hard-on right away, no. "You, Harold, have definitely changed a lot. Not me," he says, insisting.

Harry blushes, he actually blushes, and it makes Louis want to jump him and kiss him and all that stuff. Why didn't Louis make up and try harder just to see Harry back from all those months ago, seeing as they're both in London anyway, really? Now look at what he's done to himself. It's eating and gnawing at him, like this is a crime (Harry is) and it's all his damn fault.

The overwhelming, overstimulating feeling that's taking its toll on him, making him weak on the knees, just having seen Harry again like this--this hot and beautiful and wonderful and  _obscene_. Like, he's rosy tan, man.  _Rosy tan_. Louis' never pictured Harry as tan, much worse with a twinge of rosiness. Fuck. So now that he's here and he is rosy tan, Louis' instantly horny. He should be ashamed, but he's not. Pity.

"Yeah, Lou, I guess," Harry says, voice deep and seductive, thoughtful, gaze directed on Louis' waist, and then up his inked chest, and until his own.  _Greens versus blues_. "Physically perhaps, but I still am the eighteen year-old Hazza though. The sexually frustrated teenager who blew your pretty big cock in our childhood shack back from years ago, when you went home for his graduation day and made him beg for it."

Louis swallows thickly as he slowly backs away, remembering that moment, with Harry stepping forward and towards him. He's crowding them both up the bookshelves, causing Louis to realize they're in some godforsaken library, and that this--whatever this is they're doing--shouldn't be done here of all damn places. Harry's being cheeky and obscene. How dare he?

"I-- yeah, perhaps you're. . . right," Louis responds anyway, his voice shaky, impressed at Harry's sexiness (embarrassingly so), feeling nervous and exposed, cold with beads of sweat all building up from the roots of his hair. Placing each his hands at either side of Louis, Harry corners him on his spot as he leans down to level his gaze with Louis. Louis swallows again, and as though he's in some kind of trouble by being like this right now, trapped in a man's towering body over him, Louis looks from left to right to check if there are people around that are able to see them. There's none. He sighs. "Harry. . . what are you doing?" he whispers. "You don't smell of alcohol anyway, but."

Harry shrugs. He shrugs and it's like, so fucking casual that Louis almost cried. "I just really missed you, Lou. I've--I have never seen you again for like, four straight years, okay? And it's--it's overwhelming. Properly, I've never. And now this. I'm just so happy you're here with me, Lou. In front of me, all alive and real and breathing.  _God_. You look so, so handsome and. . . and rugged and, I just." Sighing, Harry presses his forehead against Louis', "I just want to kiss you right now, Lou. I don't even care if we're in some respectable place right, or that people may see and judge. I don't care, I want you. Please. Can I?"

Louis may be having some trouble breathing right now, having Harry so close to him like this. Although really, should he even care about other people's judgement now if he can just kiss  _that pretty pink mouth?_ Fuck what others think!

Without further ado, Louis inches closer and presses up against Harry's space, taking him by the meaty part of his bum and hip. Louis sidles a little and kisses Harry straight on the mouth, tongue tugging his own lips open. And then fireworks explode, because fuck.

If they come to think of it, it's also been years and months and days, days,  _days_ , the last time they've tasted and felt each other's mouths like this, which, shit. This--this thing right here--this feels good. So, so fucking good. Louis missed Harry's sweet mouth so much he can barely breathe.

Harry on the other hand missed Louis' sweet tongue so fucking much as well. In fact he might just implode with it. So they kiss like kissing each other is the only ever way of going through life; like it's air and it's what keeps them alive; like it's the only thing they need right now, the only reason that now, they're happy and giddy and sex-craving, pumped, hyper and.

And in love.

There's no denying, this is most definitely yet the best day for them both. The best one they're having, during and within, all those past four years they'd been out and apart.

If only life wasn't so hard and complicated and is rather instead cooperative though, really.

**†*********†**

Smiling, Harry simply leans down and captures Louis' lips with his, sucking on his lower lip and pulling. Another wet  _pop_. "Bedroom?" Harry prompts. Louis only ever nods, eager.

Backing away, Harry takes Louis' hand and leads him to his room, opens its door and invites Louis in. Louis takes in his surroundings once he's stepped in, seeing Harry's neatly arranged and well-organized room, one that has only one massive bed by the corner with pink sheets, a cabinet on another corner, and then a desk for studying with stacks and stacks of books.

There are some  _Harry Potter_  series collection at one point that Louis notes, and then a certain row of walls filled with Polaroid shots of Harry and, probably, his college friends, with him and Harry on his 7th birthday back then, tucked in a developed photo. They're all framed and vintage, especially placed on Harry's nightstand nearby his DSLR camera, and then some other various stuff too, all that screams Harry Styles, all that evaluates Harry and his lifestyle, him, his type. Louis' always pictured Harry to have pastel pink walls, rainbow stuffed bears in his own room, and be surrounded by such collection and pile of stuff.

He knows just how quirky and Hippie Harry is, so. . .

"Lou, hey," Harry whispers through the dimness of the room, has only switched the lamp on and let the bigger light off. He holds Louis' hips and pulls him with him, by the bed, lying down himself, wanting Louis on top of him.

Louis complies then, crawling on top of him, gaze fixed only on Harry's face underneath him. "Kiss me, H. Now."

Without a word, Harry does what he's told. He arches his back and kisses Louis above him, both their heavy bodies dipping against the soft mattress, half of his head drowned together with Louis' eagerness as they kiss hard.

Snaking his arms around Louis' waist as he buckles his hips up, grinding his crotch against Louis', Harry tugs on Louis' top, pulling them slowly, slowly, and off Louis, making Louis pull away from the kiss firstly. Chucking the clothes on the floor and finally having Louis exposed and naked on top of him, Harry takes his time to at last admire Louis' chest piece, his other tiny doodles on his forearm, the dagger complementing his rose tattoo, the compass that corresponds to his big ship tattoo, as well as the rope that's complimented his anchor, either tattoo inked to their wrists. Everything about them is just--puzzle. They complete each other, they're the missing pieces of one another.

Harry loves it that it's Louis who's meant to complete him.

"I love you," Harry whispers, "so much."

Louis kisses his dimple, "Love you so much."

Arching his back, Harry strips out of his shirt as well, throwing it off on the floor. Louis bites his lip and doesn't hide the fact he's checking Harry out. Leaning down, Louis licks a stripe along Harry's chest, and then smiling back up at Harry, he says, "'Been wanting to do that, Haz. Ever since I've seen them back in the library. The birds, I mean."

Harry nods. "It's us, Lou. You and me. Got them eyebrows fixed. It's like. . . about this odd thing we have here."

"It's not odd though, Haz," Louis says, shaking his head, "Please, don't call it that. We're only step brothers, not brothers in blood, remember? Mum adopted me... And anyway, it's not about that. It's about our love for each other, innit. That's all that really matters."

Harry closes his eyes and sighs. "Yeah," he breathes out. "Love. Our love."

Louis goes to kiss Harry again, just stays there. And then waits until Harry's responding to his kiss again. Proceeding to get rid of their pants, their God, tight pants, Harry flips them over and settles on top, going down with the back of his thighs against the back of his legs, bent over, his mouth an inch away from Louis' red and flushed and angry hard cock. It's thick, as usual, a lot bigger now though, unlike the last that Harry's seen it.

Taking in Louis' cock in his mouth, Harry makes sure he's looking up at Louis as he does it, slowly, wetly, having Louis writhing and squirming underneath him, his legs spread apart, all for Harry to manage. Going further down, just enough to feel Louis at the back of his throat, Harry has Louis shivering at the contact of his cock's head against Harry's functioning throat, making him moan as well. Harry goes fast then, slicking Louis up. Louis' so thick and big, and Harry's so giddy about this. He missed this perfect cock. Fuck.

Pumping faster while bobbing his head up and down, Louis' cock in his mouth, Harry looks up at Louis again, drinking in how sexy as fuck he's being, how good he's being right now, making him hard himself, and goes even faster, tilting his head a bit and sucking harder. Louis reaches at his hair with that, slightly pulling and tugging, pushing him down in between his thighs further, deeper, so Louis' fucking him on the mouth and on the back of his throat. Harry chokes, he does, but he doesn't dare stop, just lets Louis buckle up and roll his hips beneath him, and fuck him harder and harder on the mouth.

" _Harry_ ," Louis groans, "so. . . fucking good."

Harry hums as he goes on. And while he's at it, he reaches down and touches himself too, getting himself off. He can't help it. After a while, Louis comes, no warning whatsoever, just shooting his load in Harry's mouth. Harry's surprised by the impact of it, the stickiness and the gooey feeling of Louis' semen filling his mouth, but he doesn't spit. He swallows it like he's claiming Louis, all of him.

Sitting up, is hazy and orgasm dizzy, Louis takes Harry gently by his arse, hoists him up, and makes him settle on his lap. Harry quickly complies, spreading open his thighs and legs, resting them at either side of Louis. And they stay like this for a moment, their foreheads pressed against each other's, Louis' spent cock barricaded between Harry's bum cheeks. And until Harry breaks the silence as he says, "Wanna ride you."

Licking his swollen lips, Louis nods while he stares intently at Harry. "Okay, baby. Got lube?" Louis rasps. But then Harry just scrambles up to his knees, takes Louis' cock in his grasp again, and lines its head up around his rim. Louis' eyes go wide, "Harry-"

"I wanna feel you, Lou. Raw. So please. . . just."

"But baby..."

"I don't care about the pain, Lou. I--I want it. All of it. Waited years for this. 'Wanna feel you."

Louis looks at him, searches his eyes. And then, "We'll go slow," he concedes. Harry nods, biting his lip.

Holding Harry around the waist, Louis guides him as he slowly and cautiously slides down his thick cock, taking all of him, with only Louis' pre-come serving as the lube itself. Harry hisses, "Oh, fuck.  _Fuck, fuck, Louis, fuck_."

Louis leans in and captures his lips with that, hushing him, kissing him through the pain. Harry complies, like a baby, finally working himself up and down Louis' thick cock as he's guided ruefully, his rim being stretched and widened, going flushed red, taking in the bigness of Louis, the overwhelming largeness of him. Harry can only moan loudly once he's started riding him properly and fast, quickening his pace, being a masochist just by this. Harry's always loved the pain. Loves it even more that it's Louis' cock tearing him apart.

Louis doesn't let go of Harry's waist throughout it, is still carrying Harry's weight above him, biceps flexing, sat on his lap, filled in by his cock. He lets Harry rock faster and harder above him, going up until Louis can sight his own cock from just disappearing in Harry's arsehole, only for Harry to slam back all the way down again, hard, taking all of Louis' big and thick cock in, afterwards groaning loudly at the intensity of it all.

Louis moans along, feeling the tightness of Harry, the warmth within his arsehole, hitting his sweet spot, as if his loud moaning yet isn't an indication to that, and the obscene sounds that their thighs and skin are making as they wetly fuck hard.

As Harry thrusts up and down on Louis' lap some more, going all the way up just to slide again all the way down, slamming their skin, fucking himself in Louis' hard rock and leaking cock, eventually, Harry feels it within himself that he's about to shoot load. "Close," he moans, "close."

"Come, baby," Louis breathes out, tightening his hold on Harry's hips, helping him rock up and down on him even faster, slicker. "So good for me, H, so lovely."

Slumping his forehead against Louis' left shoulder, Harry grits his teeth at the pain he's taking as he fucks his arsehole around Louis, the overwhelming feeling still present, still there, tearing him apart. And really, Harry wants to touch his cock now, can't handle coming untouched, but Louis slaps his hand away, making him look at him in frustration. Louis holds his hand as retaliation with that, shaking his head, no. Harry makes a strangled noise in his throat, not having touched himself, but still fucking himself on Louis' cock. "Lou, 'm fucking close. Just--let me touch. I need--I need to--touch."

But Louis still doesn't let him. Closing his eyes tight, Harry goes faster even if he's going pliant, tiring out, and Louis helps him through it, almost hugging him, so his untouched cock is rubbing against Louis' belly. Still going, not stopping, finally, Harry comes, and he pulls off in an instant, once and for all touching himself while riding his first orgasm, pumping hard on his own flushed cock. Louis comes a beat later, shooting his load against his stomach.

And they both collapse on the bed after that, with Louis gathering Harry up and against his chest, and Harry nestling against Louis' hard heaving chest, hand balled into fists like a baby's, the both of them finding comfort within each other's ragged breathing.

As their breathing slows down, their nerves calming down and their cocks still leaking pre-comes, Louis groggily tells Harry, "Fuck me back, Haz. I want you."

Looking up at Louis like he's not sure Louis knows what he's asking, Harry all but nods a bit hesitantly at him and, even if he's still hazy because 'been fucked, gets to his knees and hovers on top of Louis. Spreading apart his legs and thighs for Harry to have some room and enough access to his hole, Harry reaches out on the drawer on his right and takes out his lube. It's new and untouched, making Louis raise his eyebrow in question. Harry only shrugs. Smiling, Harry opens the lid and smears some right amount on his palm, slicking his cock right after, spreading it all over, even on his balls. Putting down the bottle of lube, he leans down and kisses along Louis' inner thighs and until his darker parts of the skin, licking at it and kissing, mouthing, pumping Louis back to hard rock again, just languid and slow, just working him up again. He inserts a finger in Louis' hole, his thumb, pushing in and out of him, faster, faster, making Louis buckle. Adding another finger, Harry watches as Louis beautifully reacts to it, his chest and neck reddening, his eyes shutting and mouth going slack, moaning Harry's name.

Breath hitching against his throat, only because Harry is driving him mad and hard and immensely turned on, Louis eventually squeaks out, can't take it anymore, "Harry, baby. . . please."

"Mhm," Harry hums, still kissing and nipping along his inner thighs, still fingerfucking him fast. Earning a loud squeal from Louis, at how good he's fingerfucking him, Harry retrieves his slicked fingers from Louis' mildly stretched hole and decides he's ready to be filled now. So Harry says, voice low, "If you say so, babe." Aligning the head of his slicked cock against Louis' flushed rim, Harry looks over at Louis' pliant posture before him and can't help but admire firsthand. Louis looks worked up, so beautiful and mind-fucked, just the way Harry likes it. "You can touch, babe," Harry tells him softly, almost fondly. Louis nods, already reaching for his own cock to jerk himself off.

Situating himself above Louis, more properly, Harry slowly pushes in inside of Louis, slides out of him slowly as well, all slicked up, resting his palms at each side of Louis' frame underneath him, quickening his pace now, quicker, quicker, swiftly fucking into Louis. Louis holds him around his torso, almost digging his nails on Harry's back, but keeping it neutral and harmless, just enough for sex marks. Harry gets turned on and motivated by that, so he fucks in and out of Louis faster, harder and swifter, making Louis hold onto him tighter, his massive hands going up to his hair, their toes curling against them.

"Oh, Haz," Louis lets out, moans out, "I love you. So much."

Harry closes his eyes at the sound of that, how lovely that's sounded and bites on his lip, his thrusts in and out of Louis' tight hole steadily fast and hard at each slam, his biceps hardening as he carries his weight above Louis.

"You're so tight, baby. So. . . good," Harry manages to rasp out, complimenting Louis, while he keeps the rhythm going. Louis jerks his hips up at such wild impact, his head almost reaching the headboard of the bed now.

Holding tightly onto Harry's arms, Louis buckles his hips along the thrusts, feeling himself bloating at the tip of his cock, all ready to shoot now, despite him leaving his cock so long ago, opted on neglecting it. "'M close, H," he chokes out, "'gonna--come."

"Go on then, baby," Harry says between huffs of breaths, "come for me, then. C'mon."

After a few more thrusts, Louis moans out Harry's name as he rides out his orgasm, splattering his come all over his own stomach, some scattered on Harry's ridiculous butterfly tattoo, and then on his  _It Is What It Is_  one. Harry doesn't stop fucking him despite that, is still at the verge of spilling. A beat later, he comes too, collapsing again, this time on top of Louis, earning himself a warm, sticky yet comfy hug from Louis, both of them breathing heavily. Harry sighs into it, into his touch, the familiarity of it against his very own skin, and later on yawning out loud. Louis chuckles at that, his chest vibrating along it, yawning too a minute later, contagion of Harry's own.

"I love you, princess," Louis says after a while, after silence has taken over.

Harry strokes his damped with sweat hair and kisses the top of his head. "I love you too, babe."

Louis smiles. "My boyfriend," he murmurs around his smile, "aren't you?"

"I am," Harry hastily says, sounding so sure with himself and quite insistent, "You're my boyfriend, I am yours. Whoever tells otherwise can suck their own lower region."

Louis snorts. "Lower region," he repeats, "really Harold, really? Still?"

Harry looks up at him, feigning innocence. "What? You still love me even if I'm dorky, right?"

Louis laughs, nods. "Always."

"Louis and Harry, always," Harry says, smiling down on him.

Louis blinks, smiling so fondly, looking so adorable and soft and cuddly, "Louis and Harry, forever, yeah," he says, voice raspier than ever, sounding sleepy, "I'd never get tired of that."

"Mhm. Me too," Harry agrees, smiling just as fondly. And then he adds, like an afterthought, "We should shower though, you already look tired. We wouldn't want to sleep in our come now, would we?"

Laughing, Louis couldn't agree more.

So they do. They shower together, say their goodnight and  _I love you's_ , and then sleep, because Harry has promised Louis that tomorrow, he'll be cooking Louis his deeply and genuinely missed pancakes. One of which Louis' totally looking forward to, definitely.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter: Who do you prefer tops and bottoms in fanfics? Louis or Harry, and why? ;-)


	9. 💗 harry and louis: at 23 and 25 💗

**[** **我們將會使這個感覺像家一樣。** **]**

**Harry [23]:** _Domestic, purest, pet-lovin' boyfriend_   
**Louis [25]:** _Understanding, supportive, people-pleasin' boyfriend_

**#**

Shoving a purple bone toy in Rupert's mouth, tongue hanging for quite some time now (as though waiting for Harry to lend him some of his precious attention), and simultaneously avoiding his baby fangs, Harry tugs lightly on his leash. To prevent him from jumping on Dr. Troye, that's why. The middle-aged man veterinarian is fixing the baby Husky's files for Harry to sign on, for it's legal adoption that is, as well as for things to be settled once and for all.

Harry's at the Animal Fair of Kensington, some pet shop two towns away from his and Louis' flat, and yes, Harry's adopting yet another dog. A black and white Siberian Husky, Rupert, some 'manly' name Louis' got for it even when technically, he hadn't yet seen it back from last week. Back from when he'd decided to officially call it Rupert, specifically so.

But Harry's loved it right away the moment the name suddenly came out of Louis' lips, the name Louis' given it, because Harry's known by then that, he's yet again coaxed Louis into adopting another 'pain in the arse'--Louis' preferred definition for Harry's pets. Well, they're Louis' pets too actually, no matter how many times he denies it, hence Angelica, their fluffy gray Shih Tzu, clings to him almost 24/7. Yup, right from the moment it's woken up, to the moment it falls right back to sleep again later in the evening.

Louis thinks they're lucky Angelica isn't nocturnal, otherwise Louis will sue himself for even agreeing to Harry's idea of adopting 'babies' in the first place.

But really, Louis just loves Harry that much he's allowed him, after about countless avoidance and getting into the matter, AKA  _the adoption_. So even when sometimes Louis' having headaches because of Angelica's cringe-worthy barks and howls after a long day at work, he doesn't so much as complains. Besides, Harry's always there to massage his temples and make him tea, so perhaps Louis' happy with it too all the same. Harry's become extra domestic ever since they've started adopting pets, and Louis, well, he admittedly loves it. And also, Angelica's really adorable, that at times that Louis' in the mood, the dog's able to have its way into Louis' heart.

Harry would always fond at those kind of instances between his babe and his beloved pets.

Life could be dream.

Back to the point of all this though; as Harry waits for Doc Troye to hand him the papers he has to sign (while struggling with Rupert and its klutziness and wriggling), his phone vibrates from his pocket, indicating a call. Harry twists Rupert's leash handle around his grasp and knuckles, twice for good measure, and fishes his mobile phone out. He sees it's Louis. Who else?

"Hey, babe, 'sup?" Harry chirps into the phone, tucking it in between his shoulder and ear, holding tightly onto Rupert's leash, while Doc Troye also hands him finally the legal adoption papers.

"'Elo, princess!" Louis greets enthusiastically, making Harry's heart swell with pure joy, just with the sound of his chirp, the obviously wide smile around Louis' voice rubbing off on him almost all the same. "So, baby, mum's called just now! 'Said she and Gemma are both in town today, babysitting Ava. Our cute, cute Ava! Wanna go see them, hmm, Hazza? Perhaps tomorrow? They're staying for a week after all, so I don't see why not? I know you miss Gems and her bullying.  _Ha-ha_."

Harry laughs, skimming through the adoption papers, signing on each and one of them without actually reading. "Sure, babes. I'm in. I miss Gems and her evil ways, true. Though I'm certain you'll sass her back for me, won't you?"

Louis huffs. "We'll sass on her, of course."

Grinning, Harry signs the last bit of papers and hands them over to Doctor Troye. Taking his phone from in between his shoulder and ear, as well as adjusting Rupert's leash in his grasp, Harry sighs on the phone, says, "Anyways, 'm gonna have to call you back. Sorta busy here, love."

"Mhm, sure, love. I'll let you go then."

"Okay," Harry says around a smile, just waiting for Doc Troye now to dismiss him. "I'll see you at supper then. Make sure Angel doesn't fall asleep on you, yeah, baby? Can't let her bug us in the middle of the night. Distract her with Bake Off, I swear she's obsessed with that show."

Louis cackles. "I noticed. Will do then. Bye. Love you, darling."

"Mhm, love you most, pumpkin," replies Harry fondly. They hang up. Looking up to see Doc Troye speaking about legality, Harry stands up from the chair he's been sat for the past half hour now, and goes to shake hands with Doc.

"Congratulations, Mr. Styles. Please take care of one of our very recent patients," says Doctor with a smile. Bending down, he pats Rupert's top of the head and coos at it, "Be good to your new masters now, love."

Harry pets Rupert too, earning himself a bark from it. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be good," he says, smiling fondly. He loves it that Louis loves him so much to let him adopt another one. He loves their own home, his dogs, his boyfriend, and just-- _he loves Louis so, so much._

Stashing away the stacks of adoption papers, Doctor Troye waves them off, although extremely polite. "Alright then. Off you two go. Have a good evening."

Pulling on it's leash and shepherding Rupert out the sliding door, Harry calls on Doc Troye from behind him, beaming, "Thank you, Doc! You too! Have a good one!" And then he and Rupert are finally out of the shop.

As Harry leads the way toward his car, unlocking it with his keys and opening the door to the backseat, he lets Rupert in and right after shuts the door close. Rounding up the car, he climbs up the driver's side, puts his seat belt on, and then locks them both inside. Rupert barks happily, ready for a ride. Harry thinks that's so adorable, starts up the engine and drives, tuning in to some radio station as he goes, opting for stopping by at some convenience store along the ride.

After about some fifteen minutes drive, Harry finds a store aligned by the pavement and makes a move of clambering out the car. He clicks everything shut, and then he jogs toward the small convenient shop. Inside the warmed up store, not that jam packed with other shoppers, Harry looks for some things he could use as his other ingredients for their supper, just a new bottle of shampoo that Louis loves the scent so much, some scented candles to add up to his collection of waxes, and then stuff that are mostly concerning his and Louis' active sex life; a box of condoms and two bottles of lube.

And if Harry's smiled so smugly while the lady who's in charge on the counter has given him  _this look_ , punching in his condoms and lubes, then no one has to know. It's all on Harry and his cheeky lad self. He's a proud power bottom.  _Ha_.

On the way home, Harry immediately rings Louis, to ask about Angelica, only to have his phone call go straight to voicemail.  _Oh! Hey, mate! Congratulations! You've reached the hotline of United Kingdom's Queen's! She's not here to bestow and label your hardships and devotions for now, so if you may, my fellow citizen, just please kindly leave your alleged purposes and desires after the...bark of my very beautiful Shih Tzu doggy called, Angelica._

And yeah. . . Harry's very much in love with a child.

Sighing in disbelief but smiling rather fondly,  _so, so_ fondly, Harry just knows that Louis' probably left his phone somewhere around their flat,  _again_ , mentally shaking his head at it. Nevertheless, Harry leaves Louis a short yet sweet message, after he hears Angelica's bark, "Be there in five, baby. Don't smoke too much, you hear? I love, love, love you," and then he taps end call.

**_#_ **

It takes about a few coaxing and heartfelt whistles firstly before Harry's once and for all managed to make Rupert go with him and inside his and Louis' flat.

Immediately, Angelica's whipped her head up, curious and territorial, to see who's intruded her and her masters' shack. And then seeing--or rather smelling--another dog, but perhaps to her is a threat or an enemy, she barks loudly and possessively, barricades Louis within her base.

Harry and Louis make eye-contact with that, Harry sheepishly grinning, clutching on Rupert's leash and pulling him away while he barks, Louis sighing and finally putting away the remote in his hand, landing his feet on the ground.

"Welcome home, babe," Louis drawls as he scratches on his stubble, standing up from the couch. Angelica follows him quickly, going towards Harry by the front door.

They share a kiss, hasty and soft. "Signed Rupert's adoption papers just now," Harry breaks the news to Louis, is sheepish again, making a room for Louis to take in the sight of the black and white Siberian Husky from behind him.

"Hmm. . . cute," Louis comments, tilting his head to the side as he looks at the barking dog. Looking back up at Harry before him, Louis asks what matters to him more. Which is  _food_. Because like, having a new dog is just a normal thing for him now, see, what with he's committed with someone who's Harry Edward Styles. "What's for dinner, baby? 'M famished."

Harry lifts up the bag of stuff he's bought earlier from the convenience store. "Will make it for you," he says.

Smiling immensely wide his cheeks must hurt, Louis steps forward and kisses Harry again, harder though this time, and later on regretting it just a bit. "Ungh. You smell like a wet dog, darling."

Harry giggles, shameless. "I'll shower in a bit, don't worry. For now, lemme feed y'all, my lovely family."

Beaming, Louis couldn't agree more with Harry, his features all sunshiny and well-taken care of. And then suddenly he asks, "Bought the lubes?" Harry shakes his head fondly, as if to say  _cheeky_ , slapping Louis' bum. Louis laughs.

"Here," Harry hands him the leash, beckons for him to take over, "go put on Finding Nemo or Little Mermaid for them, whatsoever. I'm making fish fillets."

Louis complies, taking the leash from Harry and dragging both dogs with him by the living room. Harry takes that as his cue to make his boyfriend and everyone dinner.

And see, this is how they've always been ever since they've moved in together; Harry the more domestic one in their home, and of course, Louis the 25 year-old man child Harry takes good care of.

It was of two, almost three actually, years ago when Louis and Harry have decided to finally move in together. Back when they've seen each other again after those years they've spent apart, they've come to their senses that someday, somehow, perhaps after they've both graduated, they would eventually live in a home, one of which the two of them would only occupy by themselves. Just the two of them, in a flat, with no one else. Without Anne, without Gemma, without any of their old flat mates, no one. Just Louis and Harry.

So granted the idea's existence, the moment Harry graduated, he immediately started working full time, saved cash for his and Louis' future flat, and made sure to see Louis every day. Then, when it was Louis' turn to graduate, of course, with Harry being there, he also right away made an action in regards to he and Harry living together. He took advantage of what he'd learned for the past 6 years and used that to finally, finally become a doctor.

So yes, Louis now, is a doctor. And Harry is a professional photographer. They've pretty much made it, haven't they.

They sure have.

Despite everything, Louis and Harry are still the same old Louis and Harry from the past. Their love for each other have never really changed throughout the years. And if it's only grown stronger, their bond tighter, then there's that, because really, after living with Louis for all his life now, Harry's never got tired of him--of taking care of him, cooking for him, doing his laundry, all that--and it's the same with his brother, or rather  _boyfriend_ , other half, Louis. He never gets tired of Harry too; his quirkiness, his questionable taste in music, his love for smelly animals, his hippie self, and his addiction for social networks such as Instagram and Twitter.

It's simply Louis and Harry, always, now. No more turning back. And they're contented with what they have.

After a while, as Harry finishes preparing everybody's dinner, is just taking out the trash and remnants he's created now, Louis' just right on time to step a foot in their kitchen. Their red kitchen. It was Louis' idea for it to be painted red, says it should look fun and alive, yet cozy and refreshing at the same time, to which Harry approved of. So it's theirs, it's home. A red and alive kitchen of their own. Harry very much loves it.

Puffing on his cigar, Louis makes sure to blow the gray smoke somewhere else rather than where Harry is. "Dogs' food ready, babe?" He asks, looking at the table.

Harry, still taking out the trash, answers Louis even without glancing at him from behind, "Yep, babe. Just go get them by the counter, let Angel and Rup have 'em."

Louis does what he's asked, killing his stick and chucking it on the bin, goes to where the readied dog foods are. One blue bowl for Angelica and one silver stainless bowl for Rupert. Louis exits the kitchen again with that, and then feeds their dogs by the living room.

Once he gets back, he immediately gets engulfed by Harry's warm hug. Louis laughs, surprised, "Oh, hey."

Harry nuzzles his nose on Louis' hair, tightening his hold on him, swaying them together. "Sorry for being weird, Lou. . . But just let me have this."

Louis doesn't complain, of course he doesn't. Why would he? Harry's hugs are the best. "Now, now, H, what's up? Aren't we a little cuddly tonight?"

Not answering just yet, Harry continues to hug Louis, arms wrapped around the smaller man's waist, his nose against his neck. And even if Louis smells like dogs or smoke or even rotten nachos right now, Harry doesn't care. Whatever Louis is, he loves; whatever Louis would be for the next twenty years, Harry will endlessly love.

And maybe that's why he's being like this right now, out of nowhere.

"Marry me, Lou."

And everything goes instantly quiet.

Harry's heart is on his mouth, waiting for Louis to kick him out. He's pushed it to the edge this time, hasn't he? Oh, but he's thought about proposing for almost 6 months now. And since he's a lame, this is his chosen time and place for it. Great. Louis will totally kick him out and say no.

Except not. "Hazza. . . of course, sweetheart. O-of course, I-- I'll marry you," Louis says, almost choking on his own spit, is seemingly about to cry. Parting from the hug, Louis cups Harry's face and pushes his curls away, so he can look him in the eyes and search him from within them. His beautiful green eyes. Those dazzling green eyes Louis' come to memorize so much for so many years they've been in love. "God, Harry,  _yes_. Of course. Fuck. I'll marry you. Yes. Yes.  _Yes!_ "

Harry's already tearing up, fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, gaze entirely focused on Louis. "Thank God you said yes--"

"Why wouldn't I?" Louis' fast to say, wiping away Harry's tears. "Haven't we yet established that you're forever mine? Always, Harold. You'll never get rid of me, baby."

Harry bites on his lip, teary smile etched across his face, looking at Louis starry eyed, so damn in love. "Good to hear, Lou," Harry whispers, tears yet coming, "You'll never get rid of me too, just so you know."

Louis leans in and kisses him on the mouth. Harry melts into it, closing his eyes. "It's settled then," Louis murmurs against their lips. "We're engaged."

"Yes," Harry murmurs back, "Love the sound of that."

"Mhm, me too," agrees Louis, chuckling, "now if you don't mind, my beloved fiancé, how about we eat dinner now, eh? All I ate were nachos this late afternoon. 'M so hungry I could eat you."

Harry snaps his eyes open and cheekily grins at Louis. "Eat me," he laments.

Louis laughs, throwing his head back. Harry holds him in place. "You cheeky sod. Let's just have dinner first, shall we? Besides, you bought us new lube, didn't you? We can have dessert right after."

Harry beams. "Promise?"

Shaking his head fondly, Louis pulls Harry's face into him and kisses him again. "Promise, darling."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter: What are your Anti-ships and why?
> 
> #1 is Narry. It's a fantasy ship, will never happen. #2 is Haylor. Broken hearts everywhere, worst stunt ever. #3 Haige. Harry was USED FOR FAME, MONEY, stomped on and crushed by Paige and her asshole friends, would've wanted for their lives to be miserable for as long as they live. ughvndcdfjcd


	10. 💗 harry and louis: at 31 and 33 💗

**Harry [31]:** _Still his baby_   
**Louis [33]:** _Everyone's daddy_

**#**

It's nearly dark out now, Louis notices as he takes a glance out the window, and for him, that only means one thing: a little girl would be arriving, preferably minutes from now, just to take Louis home.

He's at Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital, is currently dealing with an eight year-old girl whose knee was once gushing out of blood, because she's biked along some steep bridge, apparently wanting to go to Saint Gervais but failed as she's slipped, and is making sure she can walk again just after two weeks or so of this session. It's Louis' job after all--to cure people, take care of people's health, mend their wounds and make sure they live.

It's been Dr. Louis Tomlinson-Styles' job to heal for years now.

" _Ici, poupée_  (Here, doll)," Louis tells his patient, Lucinda, handing her a blueberry flavored lollipop, " _Fais attention la prochaine fois, d'accord? On ne voudrait pas que tu reviennes avec un bras cassé la prochaine fois, n'est-ce-pas_? (Be careful next time, alright? We wouldn't want you coming back next time with a broken arm now, would we?)"

Wide-eyed, Lucinda takes the lollipop from Louis and nods her head, adjusting her leg to lie down properly. " _Oui, docteur Lou. Merci_ (Yes, Doctor Lou. Thank you)," she murmurs.

" _Ok. Je vais appeler tes parents alors_. (Okay. I'll go ring your parents then)," chirps Louis.

Whipping around, Louis presses a small black button and asks for Lucinda's parents to come in, says their daughter is done with her operation now. When the parents get in the same room as Louis' minutes later, a little five year-old girl--dressed in some blue dress and green pea coat, boots for her chubby toes, curls all down today, and blue eyes brighter than ever--slips through the door with them as well, calling out on Louis. "Daddy! Daddy!"

And, "Tamara, darling!" Louis exclaims, having finally seen the girl who's bound to collect him for today.

Hopping up and down enthusiastically, Tamara eagerly reaches up so Louis carries her. Chuckling, face crinkling at the sides, Louis removes the stethoscope from around his neck and hoists Tamara up, securing her by the bum. "Where's your Papa?"

Tamara grins at Louis, removing her thumb from her mouth, answering, "There!"

And surely, Harry with Luther--their two year-old baby boy, emerald eyes bright and twinkling under the fluorescent light, right cheek dented with a dimple, and just a small amount of honey blonde hair stuck to his milky white head--in his arms comes walking inside the room. "She ran off," Harry says sheepishly, referring to their five year-old angel, "sorry, sweetie."

Louis waves him off, laughing slyly, adjusting Tamara in his arms. "Nonsense, baby. It's alright." Facing his patient and patient's parents, Louis tells them he and his family's going, and that they should just sign off at the lobby.

" _Merci, Doc_  (Thank you, Doc)," the mother laments, nodding at them.

"Let's go home then?" Harry quips, dimple-smiling at him.

Walking toward his husband, Louis pecks Harry on the lips and nods, taking him by the waist to lead them both outside. "Mhm. Let's," he says softly.

**_#_ **

Harry puts Luther down on his customized chair in their car as soon as he's opened its backseat, Louis letting Tamara inside it as well, and then the two dads climbing in the front right after, Harry in the driver's seat, Louis taking shotgun.

In favor of Tamara's desires and nonstop chanting of  _happy meal! happy meal! happy meal!_ along the drive while she pulls and tugs on Harry's curls, Harry can't help but laugh it off as he stops by at McDonald's drive thru and orders them takeaways on-the-go, and of course, Tamara's happy meal. Just can't let "the king" go disappointed now, see, she's the little girl version of Louis, that Harry's first learned the moment she's turned three and started talking, demanding things.

Louis kisses Harry on the nose when he lends Tamara her happy meal, gives a French fry to Luther at the back, to which the baby cackles at, and leans back on his seat, Harry back on driving them home again.

When they get home, Harry parking their red Bentley at Beugrenelle's lot, Louis picks Tamara up and lets her down so she can walk toward the house herself, and then he returns to carry Luther next. Harry follows after him, carrying their takeaway meals with him.

"Finn and Jake!" Tamara yells out at the top of her lungs as soon as Louis' unlocked the door to their house, toeing off her boots but leaving her socks on, charging toward the place they all have agreed to call their 'telly room', over the years they've lived here in their new, and will probably be the last, home in Paris.

Louis laughs, following Tamara in the telly room, as he lets Luther suck on his index finger. "Go on and watch then, you little frump. I'll turn on the subtitle for you."

"Here, baby, lemme," Harry says softly to Louis seconds later, offering to take Luther from him. Louis complies, transferring their baby boy to Harry, as he sits down on the couch where Tamara is bent, looking for the remote. "Tea?"

"Yes, please, sweetie."

Harry brings Luther to the kitchen where he's put their McDonald's takeaways, letting the cuddly baby sit on his own highchair. He searches the cupboards of tea bags then right after, will make some for him and for his husband, as well as supper.

Meanwhile, "Ta, I see it," Louis chimes from the telly room as he fishes the remote tucked in between his bum cheek and armrest, tossing it to Tamara. She catches it, drops her new  _Lala Loopsey_ toy they got from McDonald's not too long ago, the poor thing completely abandoned already. Tamara switches the telly on and tunes in to Cartoon Network for Adventure Time. Louis takes care of the subtitles for her from then, choosing English.

He and Harry have decided years ago they'd still want their kids to get used to speaking English even when technically, they'll be living permanently in Paris now.

"Dinner, babe?" Harry calls from the kitchen. "Also, your tea's getting cold."

"Yes, okay, babe! I'll bring T in a while, I'll just go get change," Louis responds, already shrugging off his coat and pulling off his scrubs.

"Okay, babes. But I'll have you know, I had you your clothes readied in our bed already, so just help yourself up and join Luther and I, yeah?"

"Yeah, in a minute." Louis scrambles up to his feet and goes to their bedroom. Surely, he spots a freshly new pair of cream-colored jumper and some black boxer shorts neatly folded on their king-sized bed, making him smile. Harry and his naturally domestic self is just, like, really driving him even more madly in love. Honestly.

Louis takes the jumper and firstly sniffs on it. The Creep. "Mmhm," he hums, eyes closed. Harry had had them at some Laundromat, just the way Louis wants and expects them to. Louis hurriedly wears them.

The moment Louis comes padding out their bedroom, he sees that Tamara is already scooped up and is clinging on Harry, her arms around his neck, legs around his waist, with Harry supporting her with just an arm under her bum. "Ready?" Harry asks Louis, seeing him, such beautiful sunshiny smile plastered across his face, and boy does Louis fond over that every single day of their lives together as husbands. He could see their wedding band wrapped around Harry's left ring finger from where he stands, like he does each day, and yet it makes his heart instantly melt in his chest, the overwhelming feeling never leaving his side. Louis will never get over the fact they are husbands now as it is--not only by paper nor by civil legalization--but also by heart and soul and spirit.

Harry's the same too, to be honest. And if him, taking Louis by the waist and ducking just to capture his pink thin lips, smiles against them and says, "My husband," oh so very fondly is any indication to Harry not getting over their marriage too just like Louis, then there is that.

"My husband," Louis repeats around a dopey swooned smile, holding his own wedding band.

Well. There is that, definitely.

"Papa, Dada, stop it--stop it. Let's  _eat_ ," whines Tamara after a while, squeezed in between Louis and Harry. Poor girl. Louis and Harry laugh.

Leading the way to the kitchen, Harry puts Tamara on her own chair, a Barbie chair, and goes towards Luther to check what he's squirming about, looking like about to cry.

"He stinks," Louis suddenly groans from where he's sat beside Tamara, and Harry knows he already has his answer.

Harry unbuckles Luther from his strap. "You guys go and start eating, I'll just change Luther's nappy," says Harry as he carries Luther and brings him to the loo.

Louis shrugs, simply says, "Nah. Tammy and I will wait for Papa and Luther," holding Tamara's shoulder. Looking at her, Louis sweetly adds, "Won't we, darling?"

Nodding rather energetically, blue eyes shining, her brown curls bouncing along with her, Tamara beams. "Yup!"

Minutely so, Harry and Luther's back to their designated places around the table, with Harry's overly enthusiastic "nappy's changed!" chirp going that by while he put down Luther in his highchair, and they're all eating their McDonald's takeaways at last. Tamara's so happy with that.

The chicken's dried. That's okay though--it's still McDonald's, ain't it, so.

After a while, like, a long while (after Tamara's eaten her chicken fillets one by one, long drags of stories about mermaids that live underwater, and princesses kissing princes, to buy her some long, long time, being the one who's always hard to feed), they find themselves full and lounging in the telly room, having a bit of a family bond.

They sit through one of Tamara's favorite Disney movies, Finding Nemo, her pick. Well, actually, it's also Harry's, so they have all agreed to watch exactly that. Dory is the bomb after all, concedes Louis.

In half an hour of the movie playing itself, Harry glances over at Louis, only to find that he and Luther have slept at one point against one another. And he smiles, is right away fonding over it, admiring the peaceful face of his beautiful husband, carrying mindlessly yet securely their two year-old boy, all cozy and warm and peaceful against his chest, both Luther and Louis breathing in a steady synchronization.

"Papa?" Tamara quips, looking up at Harry in innocent wonderment, her lips parted, thumb all wet obviously just been suckled.

Harry immediately motions for her to stay quiet. "Sshh. Let's take Luther to bed, okay? And you, sweetheart, you should switch the TV off, okay?" Harry tells her, both eyebrows raised, "then follow me in your room."

Tamara nods, obeys his Papa. Harry scoops up Luther from Louis' jelly inked arms and takes him to his and Tamara's room. Harry flicks the lights on as he steps inside, puts down Luther in his crib and makes sure  _Pingu_ is within Luther's reach, just in case he wakes up in the middle of his slumber and won't cry knowing he has a penguin friend at bay. Tamara shows up a minute later, standing on their doorway. Harry beckons for her to brush her teeth, now, so he can tuck her to bed as well. Tamara once again obeys.

She's a good girl, a smart one at that, and she can manage alone. Within minutes, she's yet again done with her task, and it's finally Harry's turn to tuck her to her Dora the Explorer bed.

"Good night, baby," Harry whispers in her curly brown hair, very similar to his owns back when he was sixteen, kissing the top of her head.

"Nighty, Papa."

"Pray before you sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

"Tell Jesus to always keep our family safe and sound."

"Yes, Papa," says Tamara with a nod, "and also, healthy and wealthy and sexy. That's what Daddy told me."

Harry chuckles. "Right. Healthy, wealthy, and sexy too, Daddy's right."

Grinning, Tamara pulls at the covers to let her chin touch its terms. "Okay, Papa. I'll tell it to Jesus."

"That's my baby girl," coos Harry, running a hand through Tamara's curls. She immediately leans at the touch, like a cat, very much like Harry too.

And maybe that's the reason Tamara's Louis' favorite. Because she's like Harry in some ways too. Harry thinks it's absurd, but of course he also thinks it's sweet,  _private_.

Just, Harry loves his family. . . so much, even if Rupert and Angelica aren't parts of it any longer. They'd only been migrated back to London, the dogs, two years later after Harry and Louis had already got Tamara and had first brought Luther back from the hospital, where Cher, their surrogate, had been confined, because apparently the kids weren't supposed to linger by any kind of furry animals at such young ages. They could be allergic, the doctor said, so Louis had been crossed about it and immediately got rid of the dogs. . . Well, Harry misses Rupert and Angelica, he sure does, but then again he supposes things just really can't stay the way they are.

Standing up slowly, Harry doesn't remove his gaze from Tamara cocooned in her bed while he blindly navigates his way toward the door. And until he's got there, that he eventually flicks the lights off, leaves just the night light on, and then gently closes the door, leaving it ajar. Tamara closes her eyes then, starts to pray. Harry leaves for Louis by the telly room.

Louis' awake when Harry gets back in the telly room and sees him. "They're all in bed now," he says, "Tired?"

Shaking his head, Louis scoots back on the couch and pats the space next to him. "Nah," he says, voice groggy from mild sleep, "C'mere. Cuddle me. I want my main baby."

Well, would you look at that. Harry's not one to decline such gold gesture, he'll have you know. So very much willing, grinning, Harry complies and flops down on the space on the couch, resting his head against Louis' chest almost immediately, like he's craved to do that all day long. Which, yeah. "Daddy," Harry purrs.

Louis nuzzles his nose in Harry's hair, wrapping both arms around his body,  _his little spoon_ , breathing him all in. "I love you," he says--is all he says--because it's the only thing that's very accurate to say at this time, the only truest thing out there, and the only thing he knows will anchor the moment they're having as we speak. Cuddling, alone, with their kids all fine, healthy, full and asleep.

Harry hums appreciatively, his retaliation, closing his eyes as he lets Louis cuddle him more prominently and even more warmly, tilting his head sideways just a beat later, facing Louis and kissing the corner of his mouth. "I love you, babe," he tells him too, voice soft and true--genuine. Happy.

Taking Harry's wrist, Louis raises it and brings it close to his lips; he kisses Harry's ring where it's wrapped around his ring finger, firmly, and then proceeds with the kissing, now peppering Harry's hand, forearm, up to his upper arm, until he reaches his collarbone and neck. Harry giggles, liking every bit of it, every stubble brushing against his skin, feeling ticklish but not wanting for Louis to stop, ever.

"Bed?" Louis murmurs against his throat a while later.

Harry backs away a little to see Louis' face. And there goes that pair of blue eyes that've gone dark, staring back on his owns, making him instantly hot. "Bed," Harry echoes then, "take me?"

Without further ado, Louis shoots up from the couch and attempts on carrying Harry bridal style. He fails, making Harry simultaneously laugh. Louis only rolls his eyes, before he grins at that. Going to the hallway, laughing silly like teenagers, and are off to their room for a bedtime shag, Tamara keeps them from doing so just yet, standing before them with her thumb in her mouth, sucking, rubbing sleepily at her eyes.

"Wee," she mumbles.

And oh. "Oh."

Well.

Daddy duties.

"I got this," says Louis after a beat. Fondly.

And there goes their little teenagers moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter: If you would dedicate a/some song/s for the entirety of this fic, which song/s would it be, and why? :~) me, i personally like circles by passenger


	11. 💗 harry and louis: at 25 and 27 💗

**[** **我們做到了。** **]**

**Harry [25]:**   _To be tied up to him forever is all he wants and wishes to happen all his life_  
 **Louis [27]:**   _To be committed to him forever is not something he expected but has been wanting all his life_

**_#_ **

It was in the middle of June and July when the government of Paris had finally approved of Louis and Harry's one way ticket to marriage. A paperwork. One that they'd sent months ago, one that they certainly didn't fake. They've worked with various people of different companies in regards to that, some birth certificates renewal just to come off unrelated with each other, to which by blood they weren't really anyway, and it was all a success in the eyes of the Frenchmen, as it was, in the end. They've counted that as another brilliant blessing the moment they received the news, and they couldn't be happier about it. Endlessly.

So it had been said and done then just after another two months of hard work and determination to being committed. They've both been considered and decided, finalized and legalized by law, paper and relevancy, to which now Harry and Louis are to begin to take actions upon.

That granted, Louis now and Harry are--have been--staying for an approximate time of two weeks at Harry's married friends, Jeff and Glenne's house in Paris. For the wedding.

Wedding of Louis and Harry; the once children who've fallen deeply in love with each other ever fucking since their diaper days.

Fate? Soul mates?

Yes and yes.

They're about to get married now, fuck. Something they've waited to happen--like, actually, actually fucking happen--for the rest of their college lives, or really, for probably their entire lives.

Sure, things have been difficult, hard, and they've been apart, but the result has been a million times better. It has been the best, ain't it?

And if they're the happiest lovers alive as of now, then they aren't ones to deny that, because they simply are. They simply are. . . Especially Harry. Especially Louis. Them. Just, them.

The two of them.

Forever.

"You're gonna be forever now, you do realize that, eh, Louis?" Glenne softly asks, combing Louis' hair, as she smiles and looks at him fondly, from his reflection on the mirror in front of them, the two of them inside Glenne and Jeff's bedroom.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, Louis sighs and it comes off sounding dreamy, making Glenne's smile go wider, fonder for him. "Yeah," Louis says after a while, looking up at Glenne on her reflection as well, voice mellow, "Yeah, I do realize. . . I know."

Brushing his hair up, Glenne looks at it as she works. "I still remember. . . when Harry first met Jeff and I, it was winter then, when he'd photographed us in our own honeymoon last four years ago. He'd talked to us about a certain man--a very handsome man, he said--and even pointedly added  _with a very fine bum at that_ \--," Louis giggles, blushing, "--and told us how he was gonna marry this man someday. He just hadn't proposed that time yet, to which he dreaded, but then Jeff peptalked him into it and suggested he should just pop the question right there and then, don't let that man get away with it, with the question. And now, look at you. . . Look at you and Harry." Glenne starts gushing, very proud and very happy for her mates. "You're about to get married now. Be forevermore. I'm just--"

Louis takes her hand from his hair and brings it to his lips, kisses her knuckles, cutting her off. "Sshh. There, there, Glenne," he murmurs against her skin. Glenne blinks at him, is teary a little about all this, about simply reminiscing on the past--those words Harry said, those things Jeff advised Harry must do and that in the end, he actually did--which are making her all emotional and melodramatic and just tad dramatic. She herself sees herself all ridiculous right now, though she doesn't say. Looking at her, eyes genuine, expression warm, Louis tells her, barely audible, "Thank you. Just. . . thank you."

Glenne sniffs, pouts. "For what?"

Smiling slowly, Louis says, "For everything."

And that ends at that. No one really has to talk anymore after that, they both know. So they don't. Louis is just really thankful of people such as Glenne.

Such as everyone who are invited today, actually. Their friends, who they also treat as a real family.

**_#_ **

It's a Wednesday, clouds are present in the skies, the wind crispy, and it's overall a good day, decides everybody, somewhere they all might be.

Glenne continues to style Louis' hair after their little serious conversation, Louis starting to get happy and satisfied with the turn out of his long hair, with Glenne yet again casually talking to him about other stuff. She asks about how Rupert and Angelica are now, their dogs, and Louis in return immediately fills her up about how they're doing great and healthier by the day (too much spoiled too, all thanks to Harry), and that they're currently under Sophia's care back in their flat in London, the woman being the dogsitter in the meantime, while they're gone and being happily married and teary-eyed and enjoying their, alas, later honeymoon on a luxury boat all made possible by their very own pocket allowances for this getaway marriage.

Ha, pickles.

Sophia is only a bit jealous for not having joined the whole wedding scenario, unlike Ed, Nina and the others who've flown all the way from UK to Paris just to attend, her having been late for the news, since she's been so busy with her own new found career in modelling for Victoria's Secret.

Harry, being one of her closest mates, thinks she'll live. Modelling is her dream, and it's finally coming true after years of signing up to various modelling companies around the world.

One missed wedding event wouldn't hurt.

Speaking of Harry; he's done with his outfit for the big day. Wearing his smart black coat and silky bow tie, black pants and his signature brown YSL boots, with his long curls blow-dried to perfection, Harry sure is ready now to take Louis' hand and marry him. No more backing out, whatsoever, no hesitation, none.

"Where's your brother then?" Gemma asks, her voice a bit teasing yet sounding serious.

" _Fiancé_ , did you mean, sis?" Harry counters with a roll of his eyes.

Gemma scoffs, "Yeah," but it's fond.

They're talking over the phone. Gemma's still living in Manchester with his husband, Ben Winston, and their two babies, Ava and Cade, Louis and Harry's nephew and niece, all sound and better. She and Ashton weren't able to make it after all, since Ashton's cheated on her with some blond named Taylor. . . or something, so there's that.

Harry's decided to give Gemma a call, what with it's the most important day of his and Louis' lives, despite Anne might be on the other line too--he trusts Gemma to keep her voice down though, the both of them aware that he and Louis have plans about telling Anne after they've got married and tied up, so Anne wouldn't have a choice no more but to accept it--them--like this. In love. Head over heels.

As selfish as that sounds. . . Maybe even unfair for their mother's part, but. . . Harry and Louis don't want to be such burden to her. Not yet. Not just yet when she's enjoying her new life as a wife to someone again, their step father, Robin.

Gemma has been aware of her brothers' relationship, after years of it being hidden away from her, all of the revelation made by Louis. Although Harry too had a say on it, before Louis had broken it to her over Skype, to which she's taken quite calmly by the way. She has always been assuming the possibility of it ever since she'd secretly and, after all, seen (caught) Louis wanking over Harry's own jacking off session in their guest loo back on their childhood house in Holmes Chapel, when she's passed by their shared room one afternoon. It was obvious they had something back then, her brothers--so obvious.

Louis had only turned pink when Gemma told them it; that certain incident of Louis wanking over Harry's moaning inside the loo. Gemma on the other hand, laughed her arse off even if it crept her out.

She's still their bully sister, it's turned out, which is actually precious. They like Gemma being like that--like this. Even when they're all old now and have their own families. It's actually cute, just them thinking about it.

"He's still getting ready. Glenne's got him," Harry answers, smiling at the thought of Louis, getting groomed, all because they're about to be husbands now. Finally. After several years of waiting.

"Well, tell him I said congratulations. He's finally got what he's been wanting all our lives," Gemma says, the earnest smile she's definitely suppressing right now as she says those words, obvious from how she's sounded, deliberated what she's said.

Harry smiles, knows exactly just what she's meant. "I will. Thanks, sis," says Harry softly. Gemma just hums. After quite some time, they hang up eventually too, Gemma having engaged with some business, and Harry with his friend guests.

And that's Ed and Nina by the balcony, all dressed in white, some simple velvety gown on Nina, making her look like a fairy, despite the six months bump on her tummy, all with her peroxided curls, and then white tux on Ed, making him look just like a little inch taller than usual because of the help of his shoes too, even matched with his undeniably adorable ginger hair, he's handsome than ever.

They look really good together, Harry thinks to himself, more especially now that they're married as well to one another.

Time sure flies fast. One day they were only college students, studying in Uni, and then the second they're these. These married and getting-there-individuals. Harry only feels a bit nostalgic about the past, though he knows he'll never replace the present with it.

He's about to marry Louis.

And suddenly breathing ain't easy for Harry. Damn.

"Wine, mate, have some," Ed offers a little later on, amidst Harry's spacing, beckoning for Harry to join them by the balcony.

     

Harry looks over, manages a small smile. And Nina frowns at him, because, "Nervous, Hazza?" Harry nods, helpless, admitting to such inevitable fact. "Aww, honey," she coos, "c'mere you. You just need a little reassuring and peptalk. You'll get through the melancholy phase eventually."

Harry stands with them, his breathing fast and heavy, taking the glass of wine from Ed. "Wedding blues, is it?" he asks, voice a bit shaking.

Chuckling, Ed shakes his head rather fondly. "Mate. Knock it off. You're not a baby anymore. Woman up a bit, yeah?"

Harry rolls his eyes. "Like 'm not trying, Ed."

"We know you are. Just chill, bro."

"Chilling," Harry grumbles sarcastically, takes a sip on his wine.

Just then, the door to the room where Ed, Nina and Harry are at, bursts open, and in comes Perrie and Zayn, all dressed in white gown and tux as well. "Harry, my man!" Zayn exclaims, beaming. Harry immediately lights up, having seen his groom's best man.

"Zayn!" he gushes. They go toward each other and hug. "Pezza, babe." He and Perrie hug too. "You guys made it!"

"Yeah, thank God," Perrie says, heaving out a sigh. Ed and Nina come up to them, and the four of them acknowledge each and one of them in turns.

"Where's Louis, then?" Zayn asks, excited, grinning wide and bright and proud.

Harry bites on his lip, anxious. "Still with Glenne," he says, "Remember her? She and her husband, Jeff. The friends I met here in Paris?"

"Of course, yeah," Zayn affirms, remembering, "this is theirs, innit? This house?"

"Yeah. They let me and Louis stay until our honeymoon and just until we'd want to go back home and get back to work," he informs them, smiling so bright, brighter than the sun itself, green eyes sparkling with such fond and happiness within. It's actually embarrassing. "'Can't wait."

Nina giggles with Perrie. "Now, now, Harry. You guys will get there soon. Don't rush!" Nina teases.

"She's right," Perrie chains, still giggling, "For now, we should go check on your soon-to-be-spouse, see if he's done and stuff. That'd be good?"

But then they don't have to anymore though, because the second Harry nods his head, the door has opened behind them all already, the door where Zayn and Perrie came in from, and Glenne and Louis' trudging in, Louis all groomed up. Harry's breath hitches against his throat at the sight.

Zayn wolf-whistles, attacking Louis in a hug. "Dude, you look stunning."

Louis chuckles, face crinkling at the sides, patting Zayn's back. "Thanks, man. Glad you and Perrie made it here."

"Yeah, sorry we're late," Zayn says around a grin. He and Louis part, and Louis and Harry share a moment of eye-contact, just a short one at that, because it's Perrie who's hugging Louis next. And then Ed, and then Nina.

While that's the commotion, Harry firstly goes toward Glenne, puts an arm around her, and presses a kiss on her temple. "He looks perfect," he whispers to her, "thank you so much."

Glenne searches Harry's hand under the two of them and squeezes at it once found. Harry squeezes hers back, smiling to himself, and when he looks up, he sees Louis looking at him. Harry's insides flutter almost instantly, everything that surrounds them going unnoticed, everyone in the background fading, until it's just the two of them. Him and Louis.

 _Ready to be mine forever?_  Louis' eyes seem to ask.

 _Let's get married then_. Harry's thoughts say.

And they stay like that for a moment, just staring, fonding over one another, like it's something they don't do on a daily basis, which, it is. And until a finger pokes at Harry's side, that they break their private little Louis-Harry-contact.

It's Mia, Harry realizes as he turns around, dressed in a white dress, a flower in her ear, all ready to go now, standing next to Glenne and Jeff.

"The priest has arrived," Mia announces around a braced-teeth smile. "We should go, uncles."

Uncles. What a sweet thing, Glenne and Jeff's daughter.

Grinning, Perrie takes Zayn's hand and they both go out first, calling from behind her, "Let's get moving then, princesses and princes!"

Nina, Ed and Mia follow suit, yelling quite ridiculously as they all go, "Yeah! Better get these two lovebirds be husbands already!"

Raising an eyebrow, Glenne gives Louis a look, as if to say  _remember what I told you, just go for it_ , and then she and Jeff leave it to Louis and Harry, going downstairs as well to join the others.

And then there goes the eerie silence. Harry looks at Louis with stars in his big green eyes, all pumped yet love drunk, happy and high. "Hold my hand, babe?" he asks of Louis, voice soft and tender, gaze warm.

And Louis nods, smiling slow, thin pink lips quirking up, all shy. He walks forward and takes Harry's hand. And then there's suddenly sparks flying just as their hands collide, just as their fingers intertwine, and just as Louis pulls Harry with him. "You'll. . . you'll be tied up with me forever now, Haz," Louis murmurs out, gaze locked on their entwined fingers, breathing hard.

"I know," Harry murmurs back, "I know." Louis smiles at him with that, fireworks in his belly. Harry's already smiling at him, cheeks flushed pink. "And I'm quite excited to be. You have no idea."

"Mhm," Louis hums softly. And he says, "Actually. . . maybe I do."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. . . since I feel exactly the same."

#

"Louis William Tomlinson, do you take Harry Edward Styles to be your wedded husband, a friend and a mate? And in the presence of these witnesses, do you vow that you will do everything in your power to make your love for him a growing part of your life? Will you continue to strengthen it from day to day and week to week with your best resources? Will you stand by him in sickness or in health, in poverty or in wealth, and will you shun all others and keep yourself to him alone as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Louis says softly, his gaze never leaving Harry's. Harry's teary ones. "I so do, father."

The priest nods, smiling.

And then he faces Harry, says, "And you my son, Harry Edward Styles, do you take Louis William Tomlinson to be your wedded husband, a friend, as well as a mate? And in the presence of these witnesses, do you vow that you will do everything in your power to make your love for him a growing part of your life? Will you continue to strengthen it from day to day and week to week with your best resources? Will you stand by him in sickness or in health, in poverty or in wealth, and will you shun all others and keep yourself to him alone as long as you both shall live?"

Harry doesn't even look at the priest, just nods his head rather vigorously, repeatedly says, "I do, I do. I really do," making everyone laugh. Louis loves him so much.

"Now, since you two won't stop looking at each other anyway, you may now say your vows," the priest jokes. Everyone laughs at the small room again, where they are all gathered.

Seemingly memorized his own vow, Harry takes his chance to deliberate his first. His gaze just never really leaves Louis' whole--his face, his eyes, his lips, his smile. His billion dollar smile. "I, Harry, take you, my Louis, to be my lawfully wedded husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my one and only love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our friends that are basically our family too, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow, regardless of the obstacles we may face together.

"I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you, cherish our union, and to love you more each day than I did the day before for as long as we both shall live." Taking in a deep breath, Harry suppresses a shuddering smile and mouths as his finale,  _I love you._

And it's finally Louis' turn. Louis who's already tearing up, lips trembling. Though yet he's still perfect and beautiful and heavenly in Harry's eyes.  _I love you too_ , he mouths beforehand. And then he starts his vow, "I, Louis, choose you Harry to be my husband, to respect you in your successes and in your failures, to care for you in sickness and in health, to nurture you, and to grow with you throughout the seasons of life.

"I, Louis, take you, Harry Styles, to be my friend, my lover, the father of my children and again, my husband. I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, always in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and even in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I promise to cherish and respect you, Harry, to care and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and stay with you, for all eternity.

"You and I, forever."

In the background, Nina and the rest of the ladies are sobbing now, Cara and Stan finally having joined the crowd then not too long ago, the two of them close to tears, with Cara nonstop taking pictures of the entire happenings before her, a thing Harry will thank her for later.

Mia goes forwards and hands them their wedding rings, all golden and new, well-treasured. Louis and Harry take each and one of them, the narrower one on Harry, the wider one on Louis--their opposites. The priest beckons for them to wear their rings to one another then. They do. Solemnly, shakily so, they do.

"Join with me as we ask God's blessing on this new couple," the priest starts to speak, blessing them, "Eternal Father, redeemer, we now turn to you, and as the first act of this couple in their newly formed union, we ask you to protect their home. May they always turn to you for guidance, for strength, for provision and direction. May they glorify you in the choices they make, in the ministries they involve themselves in, and in all that they do. Use them to draw others to yourself, and let them stand as a testimony to the world of your faithfulness. We ask this in Jesus name, Amen."

"Amen."

"Lads, you may now kiss your men."

Not having the time to actually register that bestow faster than his man, Harry's startled to have been tackled in for a rough kiss by Louis, his man, holding him by the waist and cheek clingy, Louis' lips moving slowly against his owns, is even using tongue. Harry soon closes his eyes then, groans purposefully, kisses Louis back, just as hard, wrapping his arms around his Louis--his husband.

_His husband._

"And it is now my privilege to introduce to you for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Tomlinson-Styles."

And  _bitch_ , Harry swears in his head for the first time ever,  _they're fucking married._

Finally.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter (For the Larry shippers only): What's your favorite Larry moment? ;-)
> 
> OMG I HAVE PLENTY, BUT I'M JUST GONNA SAY TWO-
> 
> Mine is probably that one time, one of their interviews, where Harry's all alone in the chair at the back, a bit bored, and all the boys are seated on the sofa, including Louis. Then Harry's subtly reaching to touch Louis' skin, and Louis firstly looks on the camera, before he pushes his arm for Harry to touch under the sleeve of his shirt properly. That's just-fucking sweet, ok. And then my second one is when some interviewer held Louis on the knee and Harry looked over, eyebrows creased, like he's about to roar at the interviewer's face, but then ended up tapping Louis' knee where the interviewer held, as if to point out that Louis is his. Fuck. I died there ok.


	12. 💗 harry and louis: at 14 and 16 💗

**[** **與你規劃我們的未來。** **]**

**Harry [14]:**   _Too in love to care_  
 **Louis [16]:**   _Too in love to not care_

**_#_ **

The grasses aren't as green as he's last observed them, not as healthy and tall too at the very least, but Harry supposes things just really change over the years.

He and his brother are seated under some mango tree, side by side, just enjoying their break time, basically stalling. Harry can see their classmates running round and about, just under the school premises, some chatting loudly, laughing from afar, and some already walking back toward the school itself, done with their lunches. And Harry, admittedly likes this--this kind of setting. It's serene and mind-settling, see, hence he's smiling to himself like some creep, most especially now that Louis' also here with him.

Louis' been busy with his footie practices, is the thing, take home assignments on some of his exclusive subjects that he's willingly taken, and some advance meds curriculum at that, that Harry's barely spoken to him within these past few weeks.

They only see each other in their room when they're about to sleep then, as well as when it's breakfast, lunch and dinner time at their ever organized kitchen--thanks to their lovable mother--and yes, sadly so, they truly are lacking of spare time for the both of them. Which, of course, is frustrating, in Harry's case.

He misses Louis--always--and he wants him at all times. But then again, Harry supposes, life isn't just always going the way he wants it to, being intolerable at times, although yet he's thankful, because given the hectic schedule of his brother, still, here they are; together. And Harry couldn't be happier.

"Hey, Lou?"

Humming softly, Louis pays Harry a sideways glance, responds, "Mmhm, princess."

Blushing, Harry does, is already smitten. And ridiculous, he's being ridiculous. "I just," he starts, gesturing with his hands slowly, "I've seen Gemma going out rather constantly. . . with this boy. I think he's name's Ash? What's your say on it, Lou?"

Louis looks away and then out in the school grounds before them, leans back against the tree trunk and puts both his arms behind his head. "I'm. . . okay with it, I guess? I don't know."

Eyes widening, Harry snaps his head and looks at Louis. " _What?_ " he gasps, "Lou, you can't just--you can't just not care for our sister. She's our... she's like, our princess! We should, like. Don't you think we should make her--"

"H, baby," Louis interrupts, holding onto Harry's shoulders and is facing him now, heaving in and out heavy breaths. "Breathe, yeah? Everything's going to be fine. Just,  _breathe_. It's Gems that we're talking about here. She's a tough shell, remember? If this Ashton kid would ever try and hurt her, I'm sure she'll make him pay. So relax."

Harry blows off a sigh, closing his eyes and then within a beat, smiles. He stares at Louis, looks into his eyes that are bluer than blue under the shade of leaves for some reasons, and thinks he's so beautiful--glowing. "You know, Lou," he begins, whispering his words, "you'll be a good doctor someday. I can just picture it, your future. . . like, you, calming laboring pregnant women--saying comforting things to them to have them relaxing, just like this."

Harry can see that Louis is blushing, his cheeks and neck flushed red, and he thinks again, yeah, Louis will definitely be a good doctor someday. He fits the job.

Louis lets out a breathy laugh, like he's taken aback--which probably he's been, just because it's his baby brother who's told him it, and that it has a great meaning into it. "You. . . you think so?" he asks breathily, still blushing madly.

And Harry nods, firmly he does, like he's not lying here, like he could just predict it perfectly. "Yeah, Lou," he says seriously, "You're smart--no,  _brilliant_. You're brilliant and you've always told me you wanted to become one someday. So I can just imagine you in some white coat, a stethoscope around your neck, looking like the most handsome doctor in the entire facility. Curing people."

Louis' lips are pursed, seemingly thinking about it, considering. And until he flashes that smile of his, fangs out, giving Harry a crinkly smile. "Wow, H. . . I hope so."

"It'll happen," Harry says quickly, holding Louis' hands, "I promise."

Shaking his head a little, his fringe bouncing along the movement, Louis bows his head in a shy manner. And see--see, that's the thing about Louis. He lacks of confidence, unlike Harry who's inherited all of it from his father and sister, all high in self-esteem and such. Harry thinks Louis shouldn't really doubt himself. It's not healthy, and aside from that there's nothing to be discouraged about. "Well, thanks, I guess," Louis only murmurs.

Biting on his lip, Harry retaliates by putting a finger under Louis' chin to make him look up and face him. Louis easily does, eyelashes downcast, long and delicate. And, "Kiss me, Lou," says Harry, voice low, tone serious.

Louis goes all defensive right away, backing away just a tad bit. "Princess," he admonishes, eyebrows creased, "we can't--you--you know we can't. We're at school--"

Oh, but Harry isn't having any of it. It's been  _days_ , right, and he hasn't tasted Louis' lips yet again along those times. Along those long and dragged days. And he needs it--wants it, them, pressed harshly against his.  _Now_. He doesn't give two shits about their classmates seeing it, no. Harry just wants to lick inside his mouth, that's all. "I wanna lick inside your mouth," he tells him then, making Louis instantly flush, wide-eyed. "Please, just. Just let me, Lou. . ."

Louis sidles away, pretty much defiant, looking over the spacious yards of their school again, huffing. "No, Harry. The last time I let you, Mrs. Skillets almost caught us. There's no way I'm risking our lives again just because of a silly kiss. One that I can give to you when we're at home anyway."

Harry bites on his tongue, willing himself not to feel hurt by this, just because he simply hates it when Louis rejects him at times that he really needs something, instead he scoots closer to Louis, fast, as he looks out around the place firsthand, see if someone's looking. And by grabbing onto Louis' head, since no one's yet paying them attention, Harry quickly brings Louis' face into him and kisses him, hard, on the mouth. Their eyes are both shut tight, Louis' are only because he's caught off-guard by the suddenness, and Harry's are just because he wants to feel this moment, ever so solemnly.

Louis groans against their mouths, teeth clinking against each other's, messy, and he parts. "Hazza!" he breathes out, ridiculed, cheeks pink, "God, Hazza!"

Harry looks at him with lustful dilated eyes, heavy-lidded, turned on and lips swollen. "Lou," he moans out. Louis looks all messed up quite already, even at just that quick snog, and Harry watches as he adjusts himself at the crotch, Louis' hair in complete disarray.

And Louis scolds him, frustrated, a bit of Harry's spit still visible right on the corner of his mouth, evidence of Harry snogging him senseless, a token of Harry's claimant to Louis. "That's--God, not very nice, Haz!"

And of course, Harry knows it isn't very nice of him to just flat out kiss Louis hard, create a bulge on his crotch, but Harry only grins at him, cheeky as ever. The Bastard. "You love it," he tells his brother huskily.

Louis huffs, frowning. "You're such a shit."

"Mhm, Lou, I love you too," replies Harry nonchalantly, smug grin etched across his face.

In the end, no one's caught them doing incest. Louis' able to calm his tits down from then.

_**#** _

Their lunch break soon finishes by the time Harry's already boasting to Louis about being a professional photographer someday, to which Louis doesn't so much as doubt ever happening to Harry when the right time comes.

He's always known how Harry's obsessed with taking pictures even with just the use of his old mobile phone, has seen Harry do things whenever they're out of town, capturing landscapes with the family's camera, and has watched him go shop to shop just to develop negative shots so he can treasure them in his 'secret chest of memories'. Louis can just picture Harry doing photo shoot sessions, big DSLR camera clinging to his shoulders, and then a tripod he brings places with him.

Louis' certain about his baby brother's future success.

_**#** _

Hours after school hours, Louis stands outside Harry's classroom and waits for their teacher to dismiss them. When they are, Harry and Louis walk along the hallways of the building, passing by the lockers as well as some of their school mates and friends, and then in the end choose to go home without joining the others from their school bus. It's Louis' decision--given he's realized he hasn't lent his brother some of his precious time, since he's been busy.

"Where are you taking me then,  _babe_?" Harry asks, purposefully sounding sweetly, wiggling silly his eyebrows at Louis, dimples showing. They're walking side by side along some pavement, on the way home, with their school bus already bypassed them, so it is now safe to act their normal clingy self, with their hands brushing against one another's for every now and again. Louis aches to grab it, Harry's pale hand, hold on tight to it and never let go, but then he knows he won't, all because he's a big fat coward. Such a shame.

As if he could read his brother's whirling mind, Harry hip-checks Louis as a distraction and lifts his hands up to clutch on the straps of his knapsack instead. To save Louis the trouble from contemplating so much in agony, craving to touch--to caress, to hold. Well, Louis' brought back to earth at that, blinking fast. "Oh," he lets out, "uhm. . . I. . ."

Harry smiles sadly, looking down at their moving feet on the ground, the colors of their shoes suddenly looking rather interesting to him. "It's alright, Lou," he says quietly, "perhaps when the day comes and we're finally at the right age then, I'm sure we'll get to the point where we'll be able to hold each other's hands out in public too--just like any other couples in the world."

And, "Yeah," Louis agrees to that, of course he does, "perhaps so. . ."

"Yup," Harry chimes, like he isn't so much as affected than he truly is, "so for now, let's just walk like this. Like we're. . . brothers."

They both look at each other with that. And they refrain from just downright laughing, because hell.  _They're so much more than that_. 'Brothers'. Such a funny, funny, ridiculous word.

Why does life have to make things so complicated and fucked up anyway? They can only shake their heads at it.

About their little brotherly date; with just a few more strolls under a fine late afternoon, eventually, Louis decides with buying them some hot dogs on sticks to munch on, some scones and some sodas while they spend their time alone together, and then they ride the tube from the subway to get home much faster afterwards, granted Anne has already sent out a text message. The school bus, apparently, had passed their home and did not stop to let out her boys, so Anne worried.

Finally home a few minutes sharp, Anne later on calls from the kitchen for Harry to get by with her, asks of his help for what they'll be having for dinner, to which Harry gladly nods his head at, taking one apron from the side of the fridge as compliance.

While Anne takes care of the cooking part, stirring, dropping sliced beefs and chopped onions, Harry does the slicing and the cutting, plucking of edible leaves as well as cracking of eggs in a bowl. They work in peaceful synchronization, like what she and Gemma usually do--that since she's not home yet, it'll always be Harry she'll partner herself with, instead of Louis himself.

He might only cut his fingers, Louis, is the thing. Something Anne ruefully dreads, or much worse burn the food. And so it's a no--no for Anne. Or everybody in their household, really. . . Even Harry. Despite he's team Louis all the way.

(Maybe it's just one of the strong proofs that Louis really isn't related to the Styles. By blood. While the rest of them knows how to cook, Louis just couldn't, even if it's a life or death situation. Well, that is mind-settling in some way, ironically so, the part where they're not biologically related, most especially for Harry's part).

After a few more minutes during their work, Harry then finishes with his task, so Anne, who's still doing hers lets him wash his hands first and has him dealing with their used utensils next. Harry quietly proceeds to work. Minutely so, Louis trudges inside the kitchen and joins them, not to help (nope, not gonna happen), but only to sit on the counter and grab an apple to mindlessly munch on.

"What's cooking?" Louis asks anyway, looking over at what they're doing, ignoring the fact they didn't invite him because he's a klutz.

Smiling, Anne answers him, "Curry and veggies, darling. Something to make you, my boys, healthier."

Louis nods his head. "How about Hazza? What are you doing, H?"

Harry hums, looks at Louis while he carries on. "Washing the dishes, Lou. Obviously." Louis snorts, like a what-the-hell to himself for not knowing. Or is it, he just really wanted to ask to not feel left out at all.

Dangling his legs, Louis grabs a massive bite on the apple in his hand and chews quite ridiculously right after, to which Harry sees him do while there's still a task at hand, making him think of the future again, questioning himself in his head whether he'll witness Louis being like this, still, someday, all fine and beside him; young, without a care in the world, and playful.

Harry wants the answer to be yes.

"Lou," Anne says a little later, once she's shut the stove, and faces her son, "Why don't you set the table up, yeah? So you've also lent a hand."

Very much willing, eager, like he's been waiting for it, Louis hops off the counter happily and does quickly what he's told to do. Then in the middle of his procedures, Harry just simultaneously steals both his and Anne's attention. Just like that. By asking Anne, out of nowhere, "Do you think, ma, if I'd like, marry a. . . boy. . . someday, would you approve?"

And right, Anne's suddenly frozen to her spot.

Louis himself is not doing so much better either, hence his breath's caught in his throat and blue eyes wide, knows it's about him too. This. With Harry all but looking serious before them, still holding a stainless utensil in his hand, facial expression innocently questioning. His gaze keeps flicking back and forth from Louis and then to Anne.

Waiting. Harry's waiting for Anne.

Just then, "Oh, baby," Anne gushes, going toward her son. She engulfs him in for a motherly hug--a thing that Louis' watching from where he's rooted to the ground--with Harry's gaze locked with Louis' and only Louis'.

And of course, they didn't realize straight away, that Harry's just come out of the closet to their mother. Harry's gay--that Anne knows now.

"S-so what's the, uh--what do you say about that then, mum?" Louis asks for Harry's behalf, voice quivering. "Will you, like. . . will you approve of Harry marrying someone he's the same gender with?"  _Or his own brother? Me?_  "You won't get mad?"

Letting go of Harry, Anne cups his face, her lips formed firmly upside down. "Oh, darling, of course. I. . . I. . . As a mother, I'm a bit shocked, that's true, but. But what can I do?" She croaks out. "Honey, are you saying you're gay?" she asks incredulously, and then looking at Louis, she adds in question, "And you knew about it all along, Lou? That your baby brother's gay?"

Heartbeat racing, Louis goes  _whoa_ , because he didn't expect any interrogation to be directed at him. But then Louis only shrugs, not saying a word about the matter, so Anne lets it slide, forgiving. Sighing, it's Harry who answers for himself--for both he and Louis, "Yes, ma," he mutters, "I am. We. . . we kinda both are, actually, your sons. And like, we just want to be honest with you now before we could even grow much older. Otherwise, that'd be a shame."

And Anne, as expected, is speechless about all this. Louis on the other hand looks at Harry with this, nervous, sweating. Harry isn't having any of it though, because of bravery. Courageous, that's what he is being right now. Just that and only that.

He can do this.

Beats later, "Well," Anne says breathily, eventually, suppressing a laugh. She keeps on averting her gaze from Louis to Harry, like she's going insane, eyes impossibly wide. And that surely makes Louis squirm internally as it carries on being like that, as though he's being inspected ruthlessly, naked to his torso, and even under his waist. But then Anne proceeds on, and he's then able to breathe properly again, "I guess. . . It's fine. I mean, some of my colleagues are gays anyway, and--and they're happy and fine and--you both. You'll be alright anyway, won't you? R-right?"

"Oh, mum," Harry says, sighing in relief. He goes to hug Anne, nuzzling his nose against her neck. "Thank you. I thought you would be mad at me. At us. Oh, thank God, you didn't. I love you, mum."

Louis closes his eyes at this, thinks they're saved.

And  _wow_ , he thinks too as an afterthought.  _They've just come out to their mum. Is this really happening? He's not dreaming? Oh, let him not. Please_.

Because really, the feeling is. . . good. Refreshing. Like some heavy weight he's been carrying for years of living has finally just been lifted off his shoulders.

And like, life is great.

_**#** _

Louis tilts his head to the side as Harry's bum nudges his temple, making him laugh out loud. He slaps it soundly. "Faster, you git. Your arse is on my face!"

Laughing himself, Harry looks over his hip and sticks his tongue out at Louis underneath him, clinging tight onto the ladder. "My arse is worth your face, there's no denial in that."

Louis rolls his eyes, blushing at the obscene images that are quickly flashing in his head, picturing himself and Harry in such a position, despite he doesn't completely know what that is even exactly called. . . "Oh, whatever," he mumbles instead, faking impatience and annoyance, "Just get on with it already, Harold. My hands are slipping!"

"Alright, alright, bloody hell," grumbles Harry in response. After a few more steps, he's finally made it to the top--up in their attic. Louis follows suit, clinging onto Harry's shoulders. Harry holds him in an instant with that, like instinct.

It's in the middle of the night now, the moon shining up above with the stars accentuating its beauty, and Harry and Louis have decided to come up here, granted they feel restless, be the house explorers that they are, even just for once in years again. They were only kids then, see--6 and 8--when they went up here last.

Looking around, Louis all but sees spider webs and dusty furniture, old stacks of books on some corners of the attic, their old prams as babies and walkers at one side, and old filthy carpets, those that have probably gathered so much dusts into it now, that if Louis would pound on them, there will come an instant snowstorm inside the attic itself--except it'd be specs instead of snowflakes.

"So. . ." Louis says then, not sure what to do.

"So," Harry parrots.

Louis sighs impatiently, looks at Harry who's standing next to him now. "What now, H?" he asks.

Harry just looks at him, shrugs, and then within a blink of an eye tackles him for a kiss--a hardcore one at that--as though he's waited forever for them to be alone like this.

Louis squeaks on Harry's mouth,  _mmphfh!_ , aghast, but soon after wraps his arms around Harry's neck, melting quickly into the kiss. Harry sighs contentedly at that, smiling against their lips now, and tightening his hold around Louis' waists. A hold that screams possessiveness. . . pretty much obvious going by the fact Harry's clearly obsessed with Louis.

They make out for a while then, kissing and kissing and kissing, sloppily, (messily, since Harry's not that good yet of a kisser, still, even after a year or so). Louis thinks they're being ridiculous, but he loves it no matter. Harry's mouth and tongue are just--so sweet. He loves the taste of them so much.

**_#_ **

In a little while, they find themselves lying side by side, not caring if the floor is dusty, whatsoever, facing the round window by the slant of the roof their attic has, giving them a good view of the beautiful moon and the shining stars in the night sky. And Harry's yet again questioning their future as it is, blabbering--and Louis hasn't a choice but to listen to his brother, all because he loves him very much.

"Do you think, Lou, if you'd like, finally go to Uni and have friends. . . I'd feel jealousy?" Harry asks, voice soft and sounding nervous.

Smiling, Louis reaches out to place a hand on Harry's belly, rubbing on it. "Nah, princess. I'm sure you'd still be my best friend by then, I won't let you feel jealous. You know you're my one and only, right? So stop worrying."

Harry looks at him, biting his lip. "You promise, Lou?" he asks, his voice impossibly small, sounding insecure-- _vulnerable_.

So Louis aims for reassurance, placing his hand on Harry's cheek now. "Of course, Harry," he says, muses, "I promise."

Nodding his head gently, Harry then says, gulping around a lump, "But what if, Lou. . . What if I want us to be boyfriends? Or--I mean, will you--will you find yourself a boyfriend then when we grew up? Or are you. . . are you going to marry someone else?"

And well.

Well, that makes Louis suddenly sit up, heart stuck to his mouth. "Harry. . ." he says slowly, "What're you saying? M-marry? That's--that's a bit-- Don't you think it's yet too early to talk about that?"

Harry sighs, looks up at the sky. He doesn't sit up like Louis, just stays lying like that. "Well, I just want to make sure. Or something. Because in a year or so, we'll eventually know more people. You, Louis--you'll soon meet new people, our age, your age--and. And you might fall in love with one of them. . . and forget about what we have. Or had. Whichever." Looking at Louis, who's staring down at him, Harry manages a smile. Although it's clearly a sad one, like he seriously is considering about things as mature and as ahead like this. "I don't want you to marry someone that's not me, Lou. I want us. . . to marry. And if you're gonna have a relationship with someone that isn't me, sure, it'll be fine with me. But just make sure that you'd come back to me too right after. Always come home to me."

And, okay, damn. Wow.

Louis' gone. Louis' so, so gone.

He flops himself down on Harry, as though he's drowning--suffocating--and that clinging onto Harry is the only thing that would get him back to the surface. Nestling his face at the crook of Harry's neck and breathing, Louis murmurs to his skin, "If. . . if we're gonna have children, Haz. . . what do you say we should name them?"

Biting on his lip, Harry can't help hold on the small of Louis' back and grip on the fabric of his shirt, suppress a teary-eyed grin, and celebrate within his own--congratulating himself for winning Louis all to himself.

"Depends," Harry says then, happy--sounding so, so happy, "If she's a girl, then Tamara would be lovely. I always liked the name Sasha but knowing you, you won't fancy it and just roll your eyes at it. So Tamara it is instead."

Louis chuckles, teary himself too, voice already coming off raspy. "Right. You bet I would," he says jokingly, "And what if it's a boy then?"

"Hmm," Harry hums, dimpled-smile etched across his face. He's so ecstatic it's uncanny. "I'll let you decide on that one, I think."

Louis lets out a sigh, a dreamy one. "Okay, well. I don't know, Haz, but. But I think, I want something that starts with letter L? So it's same with mine."

"Cool. Starting with L it is then," Harry chirps, "We'll work on that one some other time, yeah?" Louis nods at him with a smile, all warm and glassy-eyed, "For now though, come up and kiss me, please."

And Louis does. He kisses Harry on the mouth.  _Since you asked so nicely_ , he says against their lips.

Harry has to shut him up with a lick to his snout.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter: What's your favorite kink for a Larry smut? ;-)


	13. 💗 harry and louis: at 27 and 29 💗

**[** **真理必叫你們得以自由。** **]**

**Harry [27]:**   _A son, a brother, a husband, a father_  
 **Louis [29]:**   _A son, a brother, a husband, a father_

**_#_ **

Pressing too tightly against Harry to his left, Louis groans as he shuts his eyes, feeling nauseous, having felt the plane landing heavily on the ground. Cher, sitting on the seat in front of them, turns her head just a little around, only to laugh at Louis' sour expression during the land. And Harry awes at that, holding Tamara securely in his arms, who's still sleeping soundly despite the sound the aeroplane makes.

Once the plane has landed, Louis sighs loudly and irritably bites out, "Hate that fucking-"

" _Hoisht_ ," Harry cuts in immediately, wide-eyed. And then he looks at Louis, cocking a brow, "Louis, don't let our baby hear you swear."

Louis grins sheepishly at that, red-stained at the cheeks. "Sorry, darling." Harry only chuckles and leans in, kisses his cheek to ease his embarrassment.

The three of them, plus a peacefully dozing Tamara in Harry's arms, all pile up with their luggage with them and go to the exit just as soon as an announcement tells them off dismissively. The walk to the airport only takes them a few minutes and before they know it, a very enthusiastic Niall, a grinning Barbara and a smiling warmly Liam are already meeting them halfway with a sign that says  _Welcome back, La Parisians_ , making Harry internally laugh, knows it was Niall who did that.

Harry grins at the sight of them, rubbing on Tamara's back to keep her asleep even if it's noisy around them, people passing by and speakers booming with some announcer's voice. Louis squeezes at Harry's wrist, a thing he does to pull Harry's attention, to which has worked for him. "What is it, sweetheart?" Harry asks him, adjusting Tamara as they go toward their friends.

"What is Liam doing here?" Louis asks, clearly tentative by this, by having seen Liam again after so many years. They've been living in Paris now after all, had met Cher there as their surrogate, and now they have Tamara as their first baby.

Leaning close, Harry lets out a sly laugh before saying, "I don't know, but I think Niall invited him along."

Louis scoffs. "Or was it, he just really wanted to see  _you_."

Harry barks out a loud laugh at this now, incredulous about Louis' usual behavior. "Don't tell me you're still jealous of him regarding our  _high school_  friendship, Lou? High school, note that. Because the last time I checked, you and I are married now and have our first baby already." Louis' tensed features immediately softens hearing that, and he looks up at Harry, sparks in his eyes, is slowly breaking into a fond smile. "Don't you think it's time that you move on now, sweetheart?"

Louis lowers down his head, another gesture of embarrassment, as he nods just a little. Harry smiles, puts an arm over Louis' shoulders, pulls him against his side, and then pecks his temple.

As they reach Niall and the others, the first thing the bunch noticed was the sleeping baby in Harry's arms. Barbara gushes almost instantly, lighting up, "Oh gosh. Oh gosh, Harry. Is that. . ."

"Our daughter," Harry says and when he says it, his voice hints with something along pure gratitude and pride, very proud of having a daughter, finally, with the love of his life. Louis' stomach warms having heard that, fireworks exploding along with it, and he can't help but lean his head against Harry's shoulder.

Niall grins. "Nice," he laments wickedly, giving each Harry and Louis a one-armed hug. Harry does that too with Liam and Barbara, and when he nudges Louis, Louis has no choice but to hug Liam too, and then Niall, and then a kiss to the cheek for Barbara.

"By the way, guys--this is Cher," Louis says, motioning for Cher next to Harry, who looks at the pack and smiles, nodding her head politely. "She's our surrogate mum. Lovely, isn't she? We met her in Paris last year, and now here we are."

"Hi, 'm Niall!" Niall chirps. Snaking an arm around Barbara's waist, he pulls her in and beams, "This is Barbara, my wife, and then this is Liam, our mate."

"Hello. Nice to meet you all," Cher says around a grin, adds, "it's nice to finally be back in the UK."

And the introductions go on as they start to walk, with Liam offering to help Louis with the suitcases they've brought with them just for a month of staying in Manchester, to which Louis finds so kind of him, with Barbara chatting Harry up next to him about her being pregnant for almost 4 and a half months now with her and Niall's first baby, asking Harry about the perks of taking care of a baby. Harry, of course, tells her all about it, is ecstatic and willing to crack the codes, is excited for her own pregnancy too, the two of them exchanging names for what should they name Barbara's baby in case it's a boy or a girl, because apparently, she and Niall don't know yet. But with the looks of it though, as Harry and Cher put it, it must be a girl too, what with Barbara's stunning and beautiful and blooming bright, despite her pregnancy as she should be looking quite exhausted, because that's how normally it works for other mothers undergoing it.

Well, Niall is only a bit too proud, eavesdropping on their own discussion of Barbara's gorgeous pregnancy, walking from behind them with Liam and Louis next to him, very much in love with his  _B_.

On their way to Coffee Bean, they make sure to drop Cher at the nearest subway firsthand, thank her for everything, and promise to get back with her by the time she, Louis, Harry and Tamara are all about to come flying back to Paris again, just before their visas expire. It turns out they all nearly have the same expiration dates for those, so it's less difficult.

When they dine, Barbara volunteers to carry Tamara, who now is miraculously awake and has her pretty blue eyes shining, yawning, and eyelids blinking. Apparently, she sleeps quite frequently and too much for Louis and Harry's liking, though they know babies tend to do that, so it's fine all the same. " _Good God_ , look at her, Ni," Barbara coos, "she's so beautiful. So, so cuddly."

Niall leans in to look down at Tamara, who suppresses another yawn, making him laugh. He's still the same old Niall then, Louis and Harry learn as they look at them from across the table, grinning in enthusiasm, watching their friends go excited over their baby girl. "She is, B," Niall agrees then, poking at Tamara's cheek.

Minutely so, their ordered teas, cakes and coffees arrive, and before Harry could offer to pay for them all for later, Liam beats him to it, calling dibs. "Nah, Haz. I got it. Don't worry," he says with a smile. Louis looks at him with that, Harry notices, and even though the bitterness is still there, Liam seems to manage to wipe it off his face straight away--yet again, what with he's just so warm and welcoming. Kindhearted as ever, really. And if Harry thinks just why--just why Louis and Liam never got along back then, back from when they were teens, their past, he doesn't say, just keeps the thought to himself.

But then, "Thanks, man," Louis tells Liam in the end, his voice soft.

And Liam's smile widens, nodding. "Hey now, pleasure's mine, Lou."

And oh.  _Oh_. Well then, Harry guesses his problem between his husband and Liam's finally over, done with, because Louis looks like he's eventually caved in.

"So," Louis begins to say, very casual, sipping on his tea, "What do you guys do now? I mean, any agendas? Neither of you turds attended our wedding."

It's Niall who firstly responds, with like, the usual, a mouth full of cake. Barbara rolls her eyes at it, making Harry giggle. "Well, B and I have our own business now. 'Been super busy these past years. It's a fashion clothing line thing. I don't even get the half of it, to be frank. It's she who's pretty expert at it, I just help along. We're pretty fine with the income and savings--'s for our future baby. But of course, I also have a job of my own. Office man, at your service," he finishes with a wink, to which Liam shakes his head at, making it seem like he and Niall see each other in a daily basis.

"That's great, Nialler," Harry comments, tapping Niall's head. "Proud of you, mate." Niall grins in response.

Louis nods, and then he turns to Liam. "And how about you, Liam? Still suck at footie?" He grins as he teases, and yes.  _Yes_ , thinks Harry,  _his job here truly is done now._

Shrugging, Liam nonchalantly says, "Well, Louis. You don't watch the news it seems, because my interview has just been aired, actually. We defeated Man U last week."

Louis' jaw drops. " _What_ ," he chokes.

But then Liam laughs. "Kidding!" And that makes Harry and the rest laugh too, because the look on Louis' face was just priceless. "I really work with my uncle's company; under the sales category. And yep, I'm about getting married too--next year, with Danielle. You lot remember her, right?"

And everybody nods, because they do. Danielle is a lovely lass; a professional dancer too, that they're aware. "What about you two then? You guys really gonna stay in Paris now?" Barbara asks, letting Tamara suck on her index finger.

It's Harry who answers for their behalf, "Well, if you guys didn't know--," he puts an arm around Louis' shoulder and squeezes at his bicep, proud when he proceeds to say, "--this cheeky lad here is an actual licensed doctor now. I myself is a photographer, and yes, we'll continue residing in Paris. It's just the most accurate place to stay, see. People there weren't aware of our true relations, so."

"Ah," Barbara laments, a genuine smile on her face. "That's wonderful, H, Lou. Very."

And  _it is_ , Harry thinks. It truly is.

**#**

By the time Harry and Louis get to their rented hotel and the others have gone, it's been Louis' turn to carry their little baby then, who's unsurprisingly so, has slept yet again, looking so peaceful in Louis' arms. He asks for Harry to make a pile of bed for her to lie down with, just watching Harry do it, and then within minutes, have done it. Louis lays her carefully, making sure she's all secured by placing pillows around her tiny body, and then leaves her to just sleep. He and Harry start to settle their things with that, taking the chance to do so, while there's no such bundle of joy as a distraction.

An hour later, Tamara's cried upon waking up, and Harry rushes to get her to feed her some milk, while Louis talks to Gemma on the phone.

"You guys coming over tomorrow then?" she asks. She's told them she's already at Robin and their mum's, for approximately two consecutive days now, and that it's only them now they're waiting for to visit. Anne, as it's turned out, yet doesn't know about them being spouses now, even have a baby, and that she's only ever known about them fulfilling their dreams outside of the country, plausibly in Paris--of becoming a doctor for Louis' part, a photographer for Harry's--and that they have decided to live there instead of London.

Louis and Harry sure have so much to explain and confess to their mother, that they do know, and if they're a little bit too afraid and nervous about it, none of them has yet to admit to one another.

"Yes, Gems," Louis says then to Gemma. "How's she doing though? Mum, I mean. . ."

"She's doing great, Lou, but what I'm worried for is you. You and Hazza. Will you two be fine? What about my niece? She good?"

Louis sighs. "Your niece is brilliant, Gems, but do you know what the funny thing is?"

"Mhm. . . what?"

"I'm worried about me too. For Harry and I, Gems. . . I just hope mum won't kill us--or really, just me, for it. For fucking things up. For fucking her son and for marrying him. For having a family with him--"

"Shut up, Lou," Gemma snaps. "Don't. Just don't. You didn't fuck anything up, you hear me? What you and Harry have is beautiful. And I'm glad it's the two of you who ended up with each other. It's a gift, not something that screams fucked-up, okay?" Gemma sighs. "Just tell mum all about it. Explain everything to her, and then--and then let's just hope she accepts it. . . you both."

Louis closes his eyes for a moment, sinking in everything Gemma's said. And then opening them a bit later, his eyes flick to Harry almost instantly from where he's standing slouched across the room, carrying their Tamara in his arms with a hopeful expression, making Louis tell himself inside his head,  _yeah, they can do this._

"Okay, Gems. Thank you."

"I love you, bro. Send my love to Harry too."

"I will. Love you too. Bye."

"Bye."

_**#** _

Harry flops down on the bed where Louis lies, after he's switched the lights off, and scoots closer to him, sighing.

"Where's T?" Louis whispers through the dark.

"Already sleeping," Harry whispers back. "I've changed her nappies, fed her milk, and now she's in dreamland." Louis nods. And then there's silence, just their breathing heard in the entire room itself. After a few moments, Harry whispers to Louis again, "I can't sleep, boo."

Louis hums, rubbing circles on Harry's arm, right on some of his tattoos there, just gently, just tenderly. "And what do you suppose that means then?"

Lifting himself up by either his elbows, Harry crawls over and settles on top of Louis. "Let's have sex," he simply says, sounding so casual, an indication to them doing it on a casual basis.

Smiling lopsidedly, Louis nods his head as an agreement. "Okay."

And just like how it's been then ever since, Louis blows Harry firstly, while inserting two fingers in Harry's bum hole for prepping up, and then fishing out their lube from one of their bags, so Louis then can dominate. Harry must be taller, but when he's learned years ago just how good Louis' cock feels inside him, Harry all but can't get quite enough of it. That given, Harry's always let Louis fuck him.

By the time the clock strikes 2 AM, as they're finally done and, grateful that Tamara didn't wake despite Harry's loud screams, they once and for all let sleep take over them, without thinking too much about what's bound to happen tomorrow, Harry cuddled from behind by his hubby.

_**#** _

Come sunrise, Harry prepares them breakfast while Tamara's chugging on a bottle of milk. Louis' just finished showering and now he's wearing something cozy--Harry's sweater and some black skinnies. They have breakfast then a beat later. After that, they ride a cab to see their mum, with their mum's granddaughter awake in Louis' arms.

Moments later, Louis' fiddling with his ring while gazing at Harry and Tamara from afar, who's nodding at him in encouragement. He and Harry agreed that Harry would only jump in the scene after Louis' broken the truth to Anne, because then she'll see Tamara in Harry's arms.

Sighing, Louis averts his gaze back to the door before him, gulping. It's the door to Robin and Anne's house.

"Well. . . Lord, please guide me," Louis mutters to himself, before knocking at the door. Finally.

Louis' holding his breath as he waits for the door to open, and when it does, it's Robin who first greets him. "Louis!"

They hug, him and Robin, and then he's ushered inside, asking about where his brother is. Louis doesn't answer that, instead he asks for Anne. As if on cue, Anne emerges from a door, some door Louis doesn't know where is leading to. "Boo," Anne gushes, coming toward Louis. Louis' stiff all over as they hug, and when they pull apart, Louis can finally see Gemma with Cade in her arms by the door where Anne has been to not too long ago, looking hopeful. That makes Louis' insides churn. "Where's Harry then?" Anne asks, snapping Louis out of his dreading.

"Uhm, mum, about that," Louis says, his voice small, quivering. "I actually have--I have, uhm, I-"

"Mum?" Gemma cuts in all the sudden. Anne turns around, confusion etched across her face. "How about we all have a sit on the living area, yeah? I believe Louis has something to tell you and it's better to talk about it there."

At that, Anne whips around to face Louis again, a frown on her face. "Something to tell me? What. . ." she trails off. And then, "Lou, what is it, child-"

"Mum," Gemma says again, more firmly now this time, making Robin hold onto Anne so he can lead them to the living room. They all go. Louis only feels more nervous now.

"So, tell me then," Anne says the moment they've all settled. She's still calm, a bit cheery at the least if Louis' honest, but then when she continues, she's suddenly frowning again. That troubles Louis, really. Maybe. . . maybe he can't do this after all. "Is it about Harry? Your jobs? What?"

Louis looks at Gemma as Gemma does him.  _Just tell her_ , she mouths at him.

And maybe that's--that is Louis' cue.

"Mum, Harry and I are married. . ."

Eerie silence.

It takes a moment for anyone to react to it, with Gemma still giving Louis encouragement by mouthing  _you're okay, Lou, you're okay_ , with Anne's lips pursed and Robin stiff next to her. And despite it's Anne whose Louis' addressed the matter, it's Robin who comments on it first, quite awkwardly. "Congratulations--"

Anne cuts him off, the brims of her eyes watering fast, her eyes reddening. "Since when?" she asks, voice scarily small and calm.

Louis opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, so he closes it. He opens it again, his throat drying, and the only words that comes out are, "Last two years ago--," before Anne's hand collides against his cheek, a loud noise of skin to skin slapping produced, Louis' face turning sideways at the impact of it.

Everyone's eyes have gone extremely wide, Gemma's owns creating tears at the brims of them, with Anne's already having tears roll down from them, and Robin's filled with sympathy. Louis' eyes are closed, his heartbeat racing, and--

"Mum."

Everyone in the room except for Louis looks at the direction where someone's called for Anne. They all see it's Harry. . .

. . .Harry with a baby in his arms, wriggling and squirming and giggling, mouth producing gurgling noises. Harry notices how Anne goes from pained furious to pained devastated.

"H-Harry," Gemma chokes out, tears spilling down her cheeks, as she scrambles to go where Louis has his face turned away and cheek bruising red. "Harry. Mum--she-,"  _hiccup_ , "-she and--Louis-," another hiccup, until she can't speak.

And Harry moves toward them, sits down next to Louis, and then puts a gentle arm around him, gathering him against his torso, almost squishing Tamara between them. "You did good, babe," Harry whispers to him, "I'm so, so proud of you."

Nodding his head, Louis, at that, starts crying. Harry shushes him and cradles him. "We did the right thing, didn't we?" Louis whispers, tears streaming down his face.

"Yes, Lou. Yes," Harry reassures, kissing his cheek where Anne's slapped him. Gemma on their other side is still crying, what with it's the first time ever she's witnessed Anne hit Louis in their entire lives, since he's Anne's favorite son that they all know, so Harry just lets her have that moment.

On the other hand, Anne is only watching them from across her, her own eyes spilling tears, with Robin holding her back just in case. And Harry sees that, acknowledges them, so by adjusting Tamara in his arms, he tells them simply, like nothing's happened at all, "Wanna hold your granddaughter then?"

Choking on air, her tears blurring her eyes, Anne shakes her head quite vigorously. "I--I would love to, Harry, but." She faces Louis, who still has his face planted against Harry's shirt, soaking it wet with his tears while he carries on sobbing. "But I'd like to hug my baby boy first." And with that, Anne pulls Louis with her and hugs him tight, kneeling on the floor. "I'm sorry, Lou. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh God, please forgive me, darling. I-- I didn't mean to hurt you," Anne whimpers, stroking Louis' back of the head. And Louis' quick to comply, hugging Anne too, crying in her arms.

"I love him, mum," Louis croaks out, "We've been in love since we were kids. We're sorry. . . I hope you forgive us."

Anne pulls away and cups Louis' face, thumbing his tears away. "I think I. . . I think I already know that, Lou, I've just been. . . God, I've just been too afraid to acknowledge it at the time. It was just--all too much for me, you know? It was hard to process, because you both are my sons, and--and--and when you told me? Just now? I don't know, just. My mind just--flipped." Anne pulls Louis in for another hug. "Oh, I'm so sorry, darling," she hisses, agitated.

"I'm sorry too, mum," Louis croaks. "I'm sorry. . ."

_**#** _

After a while, everything's gone back to normal. Their family just couldn't go on an entire hour with hard feelings, grudges within their hearts. As a sign of normality, Harry's back on teasing Gemma about crying 'ugly' earlier, to which Gemma's all but grumpy with him during dinner, back at bantering, as well as while Harry's carrying Cade, Louis with his eyes puffy from crying, playing happily with Ava.

Tamara's with Anne and Robin in their bedroom, with Robin whispering reassuring words to Anne as she lulls her granddaughter to sleep, all the things about him, being not at all weirded out by her sons being married, reminding her how she's only adopted Louis anyway and that he isn't truly her son by blood, so it's perfectly fine if he and Harry have decided to build their own family. And Anne's starting to accept it fully, especially now that she's fallen in love with the baby in her arms.

At nearly 10 in the late evening, Louis and Harry announce that they should go, Tamara already asleep again in Louis' arms now this time around.

"She's so lovely," Anne says softly as she leans in and kisses Tamara's cheek, telling that mostly to her sons, holding onto Louis' hip. "You boys take care," she adds right after, is now kissing Louis' forehead.

"We will, mum," Louis says around a fond smile. Gemma and Harry nod at each other as a sign of goodbye, after Harry's kissed his niece and nephew that is, as does Louis. And then the two leave the house, saying over their shoulders, "I love you, mum. Guys. We'll visit again soon," before disappearing completely.

Sighing, Anne leans her head against her husband's shoulder, and she says, voice palpably fond, "It still feels incredibly good when they call me that, Rob. I can still feel the pleasure it brings, even after all these years."

As if he knows what she's talking about, Robin hums his agreement and wraps his arms around her. "Mhm, honey, I'm sure it does."

 _It truly does indeed_ , thinks Anne,  _it truly does feel incredibly good having been called mum by your sons, no matter what the situation had been._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❥ ❥ •
> 
> Question for this chapter: Who's been your favorite character portrayed in this story and why?
> 
> Mine would be Harry (even if Louis' my favorite person in the planet). He's simply perfect all around in this story. He says and expresses what he truly feels unlike Louis who just keeps it all in. Also, can't let the part where Harry's purely domestic go unnoticed! And the bravery, kissing Louis in front if many, like he has no care in the world, proud that he loves Louis in spite of himself and their true relations. im blabbering


	14. 💗 harry and louis: at 24 and 26 "the finale" 💗

**[** **這是永恆的。** **]**

**Harry [24]:**   _Soon-to-be-spouse, ready to be domestic and responsible for the sake of having a family_  
 **Louis [26]:**   _Soon-to-be-spouse, ready to be a father to his kids, be protective of his future family_

**_#_ **

**_THE FINALE_ **

It's 9:54 AM when Louis wakes up, with his iPhone filled with messages from Gemma, Ben, Anne, and Robin, asking where he and his brother are now, Angelica licking on his toes, and his fiancée sleeping next to him in bed.

He smiles, seeing that wonderful sight, melting his heart into reaching out and carding his fingers through his boy's curly brown hair, blinking lazily while thinking about last night--about how magical and romantic it had been.

After four years of being together with his younger brother, Louis' learned that they've just wasted the rest of their past lives not having taken advantages on those moments, not having the opportunity to ease into each other and just be owned by one another back then, seeing as it wouldn't be that bad after all.

Like now; they're brothers, but they're boyfriends, heck, are even engaged at that, and they are perfectly damn fine. Well, Louis opts to brush that stupid thought away though, because the present is what matters.

And right now, as Louis looks at his favorite boy, marvels at how his cheeks look so pink and soft, his eyelashes so long and delicate, making him seem so beautiful in any people's eyes, his lips parted while he snoozes, nose flaring as he breathes in through it, and just--all those little things about him that Louis' seen and loved throughout the years they've been brothers, throughout those four years they've been lovers, makes Louis altogether think that,  _yeah, he's the luckiest man alive_ , most especially now that they aren't just simple boyfriends anymore, but are rightfully engaged.

Having someone as important and precious and valuable as Harry is just the best highlight of Louis' entire existence. And Louis doesn't even give a flying fuck if that's cheesy, because if it's the only way that he can--and knows how--to express how much he's enjoying this, then so be it.

Exhaling rather loudly, Harry jerks awake and opens his eyes slowly, those emerald Bambi eyes firstly looking around the place, up in the headboard, and then finally what's in front of them, before they flash into something that says recognition, them greens that are epitomes of beauty, recognizing none other than Louis, who's studying as well as admiring them extra quietly.

"Morning," Louis whispers, his lips just a few inches away from Harry's, his eyes still looking straightly into those beautiful greens and golds eyes, sinking in the fact that they look so bright right now under the morning sunlight, albeit they've just looked rather dark last night when he and Harry were having a not-so-sober sex. They change colors it amazes Louis to no end.

Everything about Harry is simply amazing.

Back to the present though; in response, Harry bops Louis' nose using his and smiles that billion dollar smile of his, the sides of his cheeks creating deep craters aka his dimples popping--that familiar signature fond smile of him. And well, that's already enough, or really, more than enough, for Louis to have his best morning of today.

Staring into one another's eyes, not speaking at all, just enjoying the peace and quiet, the two doesn't seem to notice the time, and by the time Rupert starts barking from where he is, which is out in the lounging area, that's the only time then that Louis reaches out blindly for his phone to, granted Rupert's already whining to get fed probably, check for what time it is.

 _10:11 AM,_  it says.

"Holy cow, Haz!" Louis exclaims, eyes inexplicably wide in horror, looking at Harry openly.

And Harry's owns go incredibly wide too, mouth formed into an  _O_ , finally realizing that, "Oh no. Mum's wedding!"

Scurrying up to his feet, Louis stumbles and accidentally slips off the bed, landing soundly on his knees. "Ow! Fu-," he stops himself from almost swearing and instead he bites on the mattress next to him, cupping his knees, and then squeezing tightly to stop the rushing ache. Harry, seated mermaid-style by the bed and also naked, stifles his threatening giggles, covering his mouth while peering over to where Louis' all naked and tangled in some sheets, nose scrunched up in utter pain.

"Oh, babe," Harry mumbles fondly, shaking his head. "You're such a klutz."

"That, I am."

Laughing it off with a shake of his head, Louis stands up and rolls his shoulders, his back muscles flexing along with it, his softened dick flopping just as he's stood. Turning his back on Harry to go inside the loo, Louis throws him a wink from his shoulder and prances the nudity that he is rather on purpose. The Right Tease. From where he is, Harry bites on his lip as he carries Angelica and puts her on his lap, the imagery of Louis' exposed ass staying inside his head like a sin, making him ask himself mentally if it's too early for such.

He later on decides it's never too early nor too late for shameless mingling. So Harry puts down Angelica in a haste (poor girl) and runs after Louis inside the loo. They have shower sex, because duh--why the hell not? This is who they are now; this is what they do now as well in a regular basis as they're engaged; they have sex while they're still young, while they're still capable of doing so.

And it's not that they've been sex-deprived, right, they just couldn't get enough of each other.

_**#** _

Getting ready would've been a lot easier and fast done, only if every fucking minute, Harry and Louis aren't eating each other's faces out. Honestly. But you know, they're pretty fucking touchy and clingy, they won't just fucking knock it out. The pricks. One second, Louis would be drying himself up with Harry's towel, but on the second his towel is being pulled out of his grasps, dropped to the floor, Harry then would be kissing him in the other.  _Such a minx_ , he would mutter. But Louis loves it too much anyway, he isn't able to stop.

And now they're rummaging through their walk-in closet for their tuxedos, are meant to get dressed formally for their mother and step father's wedding, but like, the keyword actually, is walk-in closet, so. So yeah, with that thrown out there, instead of getting ready, Louis pushes Harry against their fluffy hanged clothes, is almost fitting him right in, and then ducks forwards to capture Harry's red plumped mouth with his own thin pinks, licking eagerly inside it, savoring Harry's taste which consists of toothpaste and mint, sucking on his tongue quite hungrily. Harry groans in rushing arousal and undeniable exhilaration, his flushed dick throbbing in between his thighs, is once again hard for Louis.

He wants more. So Louis gives him more. Louis kisses along his jaw and neck and throat and collarbones, nipping and biting on his ears, leaving lovebites on his rosy tanned inked skin, both of Louis' hands making grabby hands on each his arse cheek. Harry fucking loves it.

The moment Louis pulls away for breath, Harry suppresses a squeaking noise, indicating he isn't satisfied just yet, and Louis knows that, knows to himself that he isn't yet too--so he surges forward to pepper Harry some more of his sweet hungry kisses, mouthing on Harry's fresh skin and then licking and sucking, leaving more precious bruises.

After another ten minutes or so, Harry's long hair is sticking into various directions and Louis is not doing so good himself, since his was still damped, and Harry has tangled his fingers through it. They both look ridiculous now. Harry only giggles at how it's turned out.

"You're so cute," Harry comments, giggling.

Smiling lopsidedly with those swollen pink lips, Louis presses a chaste kiss on Harry's parted lips, sucking on his bottom lip, and then pulling away with a loud sucking pop. "You're not too bad yourself, baby," he tells Harry.

Harry laughs this time, cheeks reddening, as he pushes at Louis' shoulders, so he can move then and look for their tuxedos. Louis complies, helping him with those.

Once they've found their tuxedos, Harry and Louis step out of the closet and retreat back towards their bed, with Louis sitting on it and Harry going out their room firstly, so he can feed Angelica and Rupert.

"How you all doin', my precious babies?" Harry coos to Rupert and Angelica, whom are all eager for his attention, barking loudly all over the flat, with Angelica licking on Harry's cheek as she tiptoes and rests her paws on Harry's chest. Harry laughs as he gets tickled, pouring some dog food on each their bowls rather clumsily, calming Angelica down with a whistle and pushing their bowls in front of them as a signal for them to finally chow down. The two dogs do, barking happily and waggling their tails, hastily attacking their meals. Harry leaves them after that, going back to his and Louis' room.

By the time he gets back inside, he sees that Louis' already had his black trousers worn on him together with his white polo, is just tying his necktie around his neck, so he can shrug on the tux a bit later. Right on the mirror, Louis with his reflection sees Harry gazing on him from behind, making him feel exposed all over again.

"Like what you see?" Louis asks, is quite sounding husky, smirking.

Nodding and sighing, Harry crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the door frame, making a clear point of looking Louis up and down, licking his lips. "You mean love? Yeah. Yeah, I love what I'm seeing."

"Really now, you sappy baby," Louis says teasingly, feeling his cheeks burning at the way Harry's openly lusting over him, as he spins around to face his boy. "Mind helping me with this?"

Biting on his lip, Harry walks toward him and takes him by the shoulders, in a haste pulling Louis flushed against his chest, purposefully making Louis gasp along with breathy laughter. "I just wanna get fucked by you right now, Lou," Harry mutters against his neck, hot breath ghosting along his skin, letting goosebumps trickle down his nape.

"Now, now, H. . . we're running late for our parents' wedding. . . don't you think that'd be unnecessary for now?"

Chuckling, Harry loosens his grip on Louis and starts to tie his necktie for him properly, his gaze focused on the loose tread, just flicking it back on Louis' face when he finishes. "To be honest, Lou, I don't care that we're basically running late, if having you filling me up would be the replacement for it anyway, but. But since you and I know that this is important for mum. . . then. . . then I guess I'd live." Harry shrugs on the last part, earning himself some soft chuckles from Louis, to which Harry takes as a win for his part, because really, his fiancée's chuckles are what Harry's here for.

And also, that wolfish grin.

_**#** _

The short walk to the elevators has always been Louis and Harry's favorite--most especially Harry--given that from now on they could hold their hands in public, with the entirety of the neighborhood being able to see them all loved up like they are, without them knowing they're factually related, more so brothers. Louis secretly wishes at this point that they could as well, once they've reached the wedding's venue, just act like boyfriends and not. . . bros. The word is still virtually choking Louis' neck. If only he's like Harry--the brave and open and reckless Harry.

Looking down on their interlocked fingers underneath them, Louis' gaze scans Harry's features and can't help but bite his lip in pure awe, admiring the pretty Harry Styles, admiring the adorably gorgeous in a black tuxedo Harry Styles. Louis' never thought they'd get this far with this relationship--far as in them, standing and walking next to each other like this, holding hands, all matured, independent and college grads, are about to live right next to the side of one another now, with them wearing a pair of wedding bands of their own, with that being forevermore.

Louis and Harry forever. Always and forever.

 

"Always and forever," Louis whispers as he tightens his hold on Harry, lifting their tangled hands up, and then kissing Harry's knuckles, specifically on the ring there that he's given Harry that one time he proposed to him properly, that one fateful night when they went out on an inexplicably posh dinner date he's prepared for them both on a cruise ship. Harry had been full on crying that time, telling Louis  _yesyesyes_ for only about a hundred times.

Still has Harry's knuckles lingering by his lips, Harry does the exact same gesture, only this time he's kissing Louis' owns, smiling against it right after, mumbling, "I love you."

"I love you," Louis returns it.

As they reach the lifts, Louis presses the down button, and as they wait, he opts for pinning Harry against the closed elevator doors, and then once again snogging him until he's gasping for air. And seriously though, when will they ever stop? Really? Like, honestly?

Never, probably. They never will.

Doors vibrating as an indication of those opening, Harry and Louis don't make a move of stepping aside it until they're both still wildly kissing as they stumble right in, nudging other people inside the lift itself, conveniently making a rather spacious room for them to carry on snogging. And if the elders inside it are now subtly clearing their throats so Louis and Harry can take a fucking hint to knock their snogging off, the soon-to-be-spouses pretend they don't notice and hear them. And it's only been a matter of time before the operator literally kicks them out as soon as they've reached the floor to the parking lot, making them burst into a fit of laughter.

Unlocking his car as they reach it, Harry climbs up on the driver's seat and waits for his fiancé to settle right in too--and when he's done, Harry starts driving his Range Rover, clicking stuff on the GPS he has, setting it to what Gemma's told them about in regards to the venue.

Along the ride, Louis' singing to some pop songs on the radio, while Harry's opening the windows, letting air inside, making their hairs fly with the wind. Louis looks incredibly good with it, belting some Adele song, bringing a bright smile across Harry's lips--still, despite they do this kinda stuff almost every weekend, when they'd drive to Tesco for grocery shopping.

Again, when will they ever stop?

Never.

_**#** _

Reaching Manchester's Cathedral has somehow taken Harry some time to actually locate, before he's finally pulling over, being Gemma and Ben as the first two persons he and Louis can see from where they are for the two are standing on the Cathedral's steps and has been seemingly waiting for invited people's arrivals. When Harry and Louis step out of the car, round it up and start to near the two, Harry's beginning to see how Gemma has this look on her face that he's all but eager to wipe off by kissing her sloppily on the cheek, telling her  _I'm sorry we're late, love you_ , before leaving her for Louis to pull in for a hug and a kiss as well, proceeding to shake hands with his sister's husband--or his brother-in-law, Ben Winston.

Harry's always addressed Ben in his mind,  _Ben Winston_ , and he isn't planning on changing that perspective quite yet. Not yet. He's still overprotective of his sister, even after all these years, despite she's married and has a daughter of her own.

Coming inside the chapel itself, Harry and Louis see their high school friends dressed in some formal dresses and suits themselves; Niall sporting some matching white tuxedo one, Barbara some silky lavender dress that hugs her curves perfectly, Zayn and Liam with both their black suits and ties, making them look so gorgeously handsome and freshly shaven, and lastly Eleanor, whom now Anne's learned wasn't going by the name Ella after all but rather Eleanor, dressed in some navy blue cocktail dress, showing off her long tanned legs, looking so fabulous herself. They all look so stunning, wonderful, and well--prepared for this, that Harry and Louis can't help but grin in greetings as they start toward them. (Except for Liam in Louis' part though, since he still doesn't like him at this point, despite his and Harry's secret engagement, still being the jealous and possessive shit he always is).

Harry and Louis pretend to call each other pal and dude and bro while huddled with the group, platonically putting their arms around each other while they stand, shooting Gemma winks, since she's yet the only one who knows they're actually together.

Minutely so, as people keep arriving, the chapel benches getting filled in by the second, Robin suddenly appears from the entrance and Harry and Louis get to him to congratulate him, hugging him and shaking his hands, whispering things to him such as  _take care of mum, always make sure she's happy, and you're such a lucky man._  Robin all but agrees and nods at them, is downright teary-eyed and all genuine smiles.

After a few more minutes, the mass eventually begins the moment the choir begins to sing, the orchestral doing its job, with Louis and Harry standing beside their step father nearby the altar as his best men, together with Robin's uncle and older brother.

The ladies come strolling in, with flowers in their hands, throwing petals of roses along the aisle, and until Anne's walking in as well, extra slow and dramatic now, white veil covering her face, with Gemma in tow as her bridesmaid, carrying the hem of her long gown for her.

And, "She looks so beautiful and happy, Lou. . ." Louis hears Harry whisper next to him, voice mildly quivering. Louis can't help but agree, only because it's the truth.

As the wedding starts by the time Anne's got to stand right next to Robin, Harry and Louis face them and together with the entirety of the chapel, listen to the sermon of the priest.

It goes then, the wedding ceremony, just like how Harry's imagined it to be as he's watched a couple of YouTube videos related to it, until Anne and Robin are finally saying their I do's and prepared vows, sliding in their wedding bands to each other's ring fingers, and then, for the finale, the kissing of the groom onto his bride, unfolding the beauty that is Anne, lifting her veil up. The priest announces them to be husband and wife after that.

Everybody breaks into a round of applause and multiple various cheers, some wolf-whistling, Anne and Robin grinning from ear to ear as they face the crowd, raising their interlocked fingers with their wedding bands, then afterwards running for the exit, proudly prancing themselves as newly weds. Louis can't help but wrap up Harry in a massive hug at that, to which Harry quickly returns, kissing the side of Louis' face and mumbling, "Next year would be our turn."

And Louis stiffens at that, his eyes tearing up. He mumbles back nonetheless, "Yes, H. Yes. . . I can't wait to be your husband."

And really, Harry is too. He is too. So, so much.

"Me too, Lou. Me too. Can't wait to have kids with you too."

Louis sniffles, breath hitching against his throat at the thought of kids. "I love you so much, Haz," he says breathily, brushing his nose at the crook of Harry's neck.

Harry bites his lip, kissing softly on Louis' temple and rubbing his back domestically. "Mhm," he hums, smiling fondly--is much in too deep, "Love you so much more, Lou..."

And they will, see. The marriage part.

Right about next year, certainly.

They'll soon enough get there, they know. They just both know.

(And they surely will,  _we all know_ ).

**_~ F I N ~_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's over!! any type of comments are defo welcome! :') byiee


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